


Forged in Dragon-Fire

by myahoo



Series: Works from (Camp) Nanowrimo [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dragons, F/M, Gen, NaNoWriMo 2015, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6413818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myahoo/pseuds/myahoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tentative Summary:</p><p>In one world, Virgina Potts was...ordinary. For a certain definition of the word. Her world didn't decide to just <i>tip itself over</i> until her boss disappeared in Afghanistan and came back with an arc reactor in his chest.</p><p>In this one, it starts much earlier. In this one, it starts a week after her mother's funeral. In this one...it starts with a dragon.</p><p>A retelling of the Iron Man storyline from the people around Tony. Plus dragons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forged in Dragon-Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Nanowrimo quality. Written for Nanowrimo 2015. Only posting the events of IM because I'm not happy with the scenes covering IM2 and it doesn't look like I'm gonna be doing any editing anytime soon. :/ Also, anything clearly recognizable is likely not mine. The dragons and their concept are mine. Very new to posting on AO3, so hope everything looks alright.

Virginia Potts had grown up with such a busy, practical mother that the sudden appearance of fantastical dragon stories was a bit of a shock. That’s not to say her mom hadn’t given her the typical fairytales, but there was something about the dragon stories that seemed to strike a chord with the older woman, setting her eyes alight with an excitement that reminded Virginia more of her lovestruck classmates than her down-to-earth mother. It didn’t stop her from listening intently and recording the stories because there was obviously a reason her mother had waited so long to tell them to her, instead of weaving them into her childhood the way the other fairytales had been.

Year after year passed and the stories began repeating themselves, but her mother never did give her much of a reason. Just that she needed to be old enough to understand how to keep it secret without having them intertwined with the typical children’s tales. Why that meant she didn’t start telling her the stories until she was in high school, Virginia couldn’t guess. And then she was off to college and the daily stream of dragon stories stopped, which left her at an odd loss for the first few days before she started branching out to meet people.

She only went home for that first winter break. Between landing a job as a model and pushing to finish her classes ASAP, Virginia didn’t have much time to spare for heading all the way home, only to hang around the house while her mom was off working. She managed to have something of a social life, but that was much easier to manage since all her friends lived nearby. The notebook, filled with stories of dragons and souls and liminal places, gathered dust as the months passed, untouched and mostly forgotten as more urgent worries took up her thoughts. And, with nothing having come of them despite her mom’s unspoken certainty, Virginia dismissed the vague, nebulous possibility that they could be anything more than stories.

 

* * *

 

The first time she thought there might be more to her mother’s stories than she’d thought, it was a quiet night in, a week after the funeral. Heart attack, they’d told her, unnoticed and unrealized. And with no one to call the paramedics, she’d died before anyone realized there was even a problem. Virginia hadn’t wanted to believe them, hadn’t even _considered_ that her mom could even have one, but she was now all alone in the world; Audrey Potts had rarely, if ever, spoken of Virginia’s father, after all, and friends just didn’t quite cut it this close to the pain.

For the first time in a while, she wasn’t hurrying to hang out with friends or to class or to work. The grieving college student was nestled in her bed, tiredly staring at her desk in a bit of a daze as she tried to get herself to begin dealing with what her mom had left behind. It took her a while to register the dusty yet familiar notebook, but she immediately reached out to crack it open. Despite being so uncharacteristically fantastical, the stories were still a comfort to her, a reminder that her mom had _wanted_ her to know them, even if Virginia never figured out why.

She was in the middle of one of her favorites when she thought she felt an odd weight fumbling around on her bed with tottering baby steps, but there was nothing there when she looked. With a frown, she returned to the story and only managed a few more pages before the tiny, uneven steps began again. This time, she scanned her room with a scowl and got up to search for whatever was shifting her bed like that. She was very sure her roommates wouldn’t have gotten her a kitten or puppy, but she looked all over her room anyway, just to be thorough. There was nothing and she glared at the approximate location with her hands on her hips for a few moments, trying to figure out what it was.

When the only thing that came to her was one of her mother’s stories, she dismissed the idea and assumed she’d imagined it, before crawling back into bed and continuing where she left off. This time, she ignored the wobbly steps of whatever it was and didn’t even notice when it curled up next to her hip.

 

* * *

 

Two years later, Virginia had graduated with a BA in accounting, left the modeling business, and was working in Stark Industries as a low-level administrative assistant. In that time, she’d also managed to figure out what exactly it was that her mom had wanted Virginia to keep secret by stumbling across it in the months following the funeral.

The small, stumbling footsteps on her bed hadn’t gone away, though she’d dismissed them frequently and often. Many times, she hadn’t even noticed them anymore through her efforts to keep busy and not think about her solo situation. It wasn’t until the weekend before another set of finals that she’d pretty much tripped over the secret and the small ivory-colored lizard that came with it.

Oddly enough, she hadn’t even noticed it until she’d flopped onto her bed after her shower and an indignant squeak and flailing limbs made themselves known next to her chest. She’d shoved herself up on her elbows to see what had made the noise and spotted the disgruntled reptile sitting near the foot of the bed. She’d blinked at it in confusion and gotten a huffy sort of stare in return, before the image clicked and she was bolting upright to _stare_ at the baby dragon sitting on her bed.

Among her mother’s belongings had been a small chest, big enough for a book and several compartments underneath. Though Virginia hadn’t felt right examining the items filling those compartments, the book she’d had no trouble pulling out to look through. Embossed in gold and silver with the edges a shimmering ivory, the book was a beautiful thing and the stories it contained were familiar and comforting. The part she’d marveled over, though, were the images, detailed and unique works that she’d been awestruck by. Dragons and people spoken of in the stories brought to life by some talented artist whose name she couldn’t read in a language she didn’t recognize. Eventually, she’d put it back into the wooden box and put _that_ back where her mother had originally placed it, making a note to herself to move it somewhere more secure as she’d left.

This grumpy-looking reptile was such an uncannily exact match for the picture accompanying one of the first stories that Virginia had been uneasy. Was she dreaming? Had she somehow fallen asleep without noticing, due to exhaustion and a caffeine crash? She’d never been a lucid dreamer, but it was apparently something you could learn to do. Was that what she was doing?

Whatever her attempts to explain the reptile away, it hadn’t managed to encompass its awkward movements on the bed or its extensively expressive body language, both of which had always been depicted as graceful and elegant in the book, despite young creatures’ typical clumsiness. Also, the book had never really shown just how much a young dragon’s wings seemed to dwarf them when they were stumbling around on an uncooperative surface.

Virginia’d continued to watch in amusement as the baby dragonet eventually made its clumsy way back to her. She’d winced as it clambered up her side—even as a baby, those claws were _sharp_ —and then huffed a laugh as it curled up on her belly, its head resting comfortably on its place above her heart. She hadn’t panicked as it faded with the setting sun, easily recalling how dragons had always found it easiest to visit during the liminal times, but she’d kept comfortable eye contact until it was gone. That night, she’d been left with scratches up the left side of her waist and the very clear certainty that the dragon was female.

After that night, the dragon had visited just as frequently as it—sorry, _she_ —had when she’d been learning to walk. Every day, particularly if Virginia was still in her room when the sun rose, the dragon made a chirping appearance, greeting the day and Virginia with calm cheerfulness after attempting to curl up next to her like a cat. Every night when she was back, the dragon would curl up and fall asleep snuggled up to her while Virginia studied or did homework or read a book.

It’d been a huge shock when she’d started speaking English, but Virginia was learning to roll with the punches and it wasn’t like she _needed_ the dragon to speak to understand her anyway. Months of daily and twice-daily visits meant Virginia had learned quickly how to understand the little twitches a dragon used to express herself. The stories she’d once considered only tales were now her guide to interacting with her very own dragon, which meant she wasn’t all that surprised when they started picking up each other’s thoughts and fumbling their way into some sort of telepathic bond thing.

She was a little surprised to find that the dragon had no name, but the dragon explained that it was something each individual found for themselves. Some went on quests, some were given it, and some took their passion and named themselves after it. Not all dragons deserved a name just for surviving because a name was more than a word. After all, weren’t human names more than just a bunch of sounds? Didn’t nicknames sometimes mean more to people than their actual names? Virginia supposed that made sense, but it was still a bit odd to realize that her dragon companion had no name.

Several months later, that didn’t matter anymore because her dragon showed up, exhausted and bruised, ocean-blue where she was once ivory, and introduced herself as Mm’aryn. Her eyes were still silver, her claws were still gleaming white, and she curled up next to Virginia and didn’t disappear with the setting sun.

The first time Mm’aryn managed to stick around for the entire day, Virginia had been jumpy and nervous, just waiting for her roommates to say something. She’d spent the entire day just waiting for someone to comment on the odd lizard following her around everywhere, but no one had said anything. It wasn’t until Mm’aryn began looking extremely amused at the end of the day that Virginia had suddenly remembered that, for most people, dragons would only ever be fantastic creatures born from someone’s imagination. Virginia had huffed until she went to bed and Mm’aryn curled up with her head in the same place she’d been putting it since she first managed to become visible on this side of the divide. With a sigh, Virginia let it go; there were worse things that could’ve happened, she supposed.

 

* * *

 

Four months after she started working for Stark Industries, she was looking over the project financial numbers that she would later alternately curse and thank for sending her life into even more chaos. Her gut feeling said that they were wrong, the numbers wouldn’t leave her alone, and she could see Mm’aryn’s tail and wings twitching in response to her feelings. She brought it up to her supervisor who brushed her off and pretty much told her the numbers were right and she was wrong. Now, if he’d actually checked her numbers instead of outright dismissing her, she would’ve let it go, but he hadn’t and that tripped off something she was beginning to realize had settled in and made itself at home in her. Namely, one sleek, silver-eyed, ocean-colored, shoulder-dragon called Mm’aryn, whose influence sometimes made Virginia act a bit…draconic. And anyone who dismissed a dragon out of hand was asking for it.

Virginia went over her supervisor’s head to the general manager, one Mr. Folan, who sneered and told her, “Those numbers were crunched by Tony Stark, so why don’t you just take it up with him?” Maybe he meant to cow her by dropping the CEO’s name. Maybe he was just trying to bluff her out. Whatever his reasoning, she called his bluff, got fired for her troubles, and decided to hell with it. If she wasn’t working for the company anymore, she might as well do what she came here to do.

She burst into Stark’s office, propelled by draconic indignation, and waved the sheaf of papers in her hand, demanding to be heard. Had she been less irritated with the men she’d already had to deal with, she might have taken a moment to appreciate the fact that, even in person, Stark was very easy on the eyes, but everything about him had annoyed her at that moment. From the fact that he was drinking to the woman he was obviously chatting with to the way he’d propped his feet up on his desk. Even his stunned expression at her intrusion hadn’t lightened her mood and, since he wasn’t exactly _doing_ anything except watching, she took out her aggravation on the more immediate threat, the security guards Stark’s secretary had called.

Despite being both indignant and aggravated beyond her norm, Virginia was very much aware of the secret she was hiding, so, instead of snarling and crouching the way Mm’aryn was instinctively doing back at her former desk, Virginia yelled as loud as she could, “ _Don’t you touch me! I have pepper spray!_ ” And she never even hinted that she had a very good guardian in the form of a mythical apex predator who would wreak havoc in the twilight times of sunrise and sunset, if Virginia didn’t stop her.

Stark bursting into laughter was not something Virginia expected and it only tipped her into honest anger, but his waving off the security guards added plain old confusion to the mix. Even after he took the papers she was holding, looked them over, and stopped laughing, Virginia was seriously just baffled at this man’s response, while Mm’aryn curiously perked up in their shared mindspace.

“Wow. I flipped two numbers. The whole projection is off. How the hell did I miss this?” he eventually said softly.

Virginia reigned in the urge to roll her eyes, reminding herself that this was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, even if he wasn’t all that old. “Maybe you had a little too much to drink,” she deadpanned pointedly.

“There’s not enough liquor in the world for me to have had too much to drink,” he replied and Virginia just kind of marveled at the way Stark seemed to take no offense to her statement. Sure, she’d seen the way he pretty much ignored all the bad press, but she’d always assumed that his honest reaction had been hidden behind closed doors before he’d composed himself or something. Then again, considering the way he’d been in the limelight since he was a kid, he probably had other methods of working through insults and awkward situations.

Stark’s shake of the head brought Virginia out of her thoughts. “What department did you work in again?”

“Technically, none. Mr. Folan just fired me.”

“Did he now.” Stark looked her in the eyes and Virginia fought the urge to bristle. The smirk wasn’t really helping. “ _Pepper_ spray?”

“Yes, well, I lied about that,” Virginia told him, wondering where the man was going with this and stomping on the tiny suggestions that said he might nullify that statement. After all, working at SI was pretty decent for beginning work; they had ridiculous benefits and she was getting enough of a salary that she wouldn’t have to worry much for a while.

“I know. That’s why it was so funny. You’re the world’s worst liar. I’ve never seen someone fail so spectacularly.”

Virginia felt her heart skip a beat, but Stark was still smirking, so it couldn’t have been about Mm’aryn. Besides, Virginia had _mastered_ her poker face because she had a dragon in her head, who would say the _worst_ things at the _worst_ times.

“Fine. I’m a terrible liar. Always have been,” she ended up saying, exasperated, and Stark didn’t seem to pick up on the fact that that was a lie, in and of itself.

“Considering the number of people I’m surrounded by who try to lie to me on a daily basis, that’s actually a very useful commodity to me. I could use someone who can’t help but be truthful.” Virginia…just sort of wondered whether Stark realized exactly what his position in the world entailed, aside from the whole tons of money, tons of stuff thing. Unless this was an entirely different thing than…whatever she was thinking this might be, but the man got all the attention he could ever want and more. What could he be missing?

She tuned back in at the sound of her name and blinked as Stark just told the security guard to escort her to the office next door.

“What do I tell Mr. Folan?”

“Tell him he can have Miss Potts’ old desk.”

Virginia blinked again, while Mm’aryn got the message and slinked invisibly over to her new office. “I—I don’t understand.”

“You, Miss Pepper Potts, are going to be my personal assistant. I need someone who will cover my back while never lying to me. You want the job?”

“I…” Personal assistant? As in, what, help him with whatever business things he needs? She did recall he had a bad habit of showing up late to events and missing ceremonies and flaking out of talks. Although the never lying was a bit of a laugh.

“Beats unemployment. Huge salary that I’ll come up with during a drunken haze. Come on, Pepper…you know you want it.”

Pepper? Oh, no. Oh, no no no no. She remembered that talk about names and naming. It wasn’t all that long ago. She was going to stop _that_ right in its tracks. “Okay, but…you’re going to stop calling me Pepper,” she said sternly. Everything, but the name, _please_.

“You’ll get used to it,” Stark said with a smile.

Thankfully, it was only after she’d retreated to her new office that Mm’aryn decided to add her observations.

_-He named you.-_

_I noticed,_ Virginia replied, though she didn’t stop working. Or, really, organizing, since she had a new office and all.

_-He named the other one, too.-_

_Which one?_ Virginia shuffled some papers into different piles and started searching for memos to sort.

 _-The bald one. Older. Smells like ashes and…bitter.-_ The impression of old anger and banked fury, of holding onto something that wasn’t yours to begin with. An older man, bald, with facial hair.

_Obadiah Stane?_

_-O-ba-di-ah Stane.-_ Mm’aryn was tasting the name. _–Yeah. Him.-_

 _How can you tell?_ That was always interesting to ask. Sometimes Mm’aryn would say by scent or from the way people act around each other or how they would react to the other’s voice.

 _-He’s colored in his soul.-_ And sometimes she would say that, which never failed to confuse Virginia. Mm’aryn tried to explain once and then said that she could show her, but Virginia had backed out that time. Maybe sometime in the future.

_Yeah?_

_-O-ba-di-ah Stane’s colored in Stark’s soul, too, but not in the right way.-_

_There’s a right way?_ Virginia knew how to keep this kind of conversation going. Mm’aryn had found something that was making her uneasy and she needed to tell someone. From what Virginia had inferred, most of the dragons on the other side couldn’t quite grasp human conventions and there weren’t enough human-friend dragons for Mm’aryn to talk to. Oddly enough, it made Virginia a bit comforted that at least the two of them were odd birds out together.

 _-Of_ course _there’s a right way. Like, when you hug. You don’t hug around the neck hard enough to choke,_ all _the time.-_ Virginia got a disgruntled silver eye for her trouble, but she was frowning at what had just been said. That…didn’t sound good.

_-Exactly!-_

_Except we don’t know anything else, right now, and I can’t exactly go up to him and say ‘excuse me, Mr. Stark, is there anything weird going on with your CFO who also happens to be your dad’s old friend? Because I’ve got a dragon who can see souls and she says there’s something not right going on.’_

Mm’aryn huffed. _–Fine. If things catch fire, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.-_

 _You got it._ Virginia finished transposing all the still-relevant memos to her Blackberry and started looking through the forms and papers still sitting in piles on her desk. A quick glance at the clock showed she still had some time before she had to leave.

_-On the other hand, he seems like a good mate.-_

Virginia froze and shoved down hard on the urge to sputter, taking a deep breath as she did so. Since telepathy wasn’t just words transferred between minds, vague pronouns never ended up being vague. That being the case, Virginia still didn’t want to touch that problem with a ten-foot pole.

 _Sputtering._ Why _would you bring that_ up _?_

Mm’aryn tilted her head to the side. _–Was I not supposed to? You had a line running in that general trend anyway.-_

 _I would’ve greatly appreciated if you_ hadn’t _, thank you very much._ Her mental voice was sour.

_-How come?-_

Virginia shoved all the possible consequences in her general direction. _That’s why._

Mm’aryn made a face. _–That…is ridiculously complicated, but makes some sort of sense. Well, human-sense, anyway.-_ She paused for a moment. _–I still say he’d be a good one.-_

Virginia barely managed to stop herself from dropping her head onto her desk. _Just…stop. Please._

_-Why? There’s nothing wrong with admiring from a distance, right?-_

Virginia was momentarily torn, but Mm’aryn’s next sentence dropped her back to exasperated.

_-You don’t even have to be the one to look. I can and then just show it to you.-_

_No. Just…no._

_-You’re no fun.-_ Mm’aryn pouted, curling up in Virginia’s lap.

_I’d like to keep the job, thank you very much. It’s much nicer than my last one._

_-…humans are weird.-_

_Well, so are dragons._

* * *

 

It didn’t take her long before she met another of Stark’s named people, his chauffeur, bodyguard, and all-around friend Harold “Happy” Hogan. A retired boxer, Stark apparently hired Hogan after the two of them fought off some muggers in an alleyway.

…which was apparently par for the course. Hogan’s primary job was apparently to drive or pilot Stark to wherever he needed to go, whenever he needed to go. At least, when he wasn’t keeping the paparazzi off of the genius CEO.

 _What did I get myself into?_ Virginia wondered as the two flew off for the 2000 Tech Convention in Bern, Switzerland. Mm’aryn snickered at her disbelief.

_-Well, that’s two down. One more to go.-_

_What?_ P-Virginia got back in her car to head back home and wait for her boss to get back from Switzerland.

 _-His named. The people he’s colored and let color him.-_ Mm’aryn was circling in the front passenger seat and then pulling out her wings to examine them. It frequently made Virginia wince because the contortions Mm’aryn went through to check over her wings always looked like they should hurt, but she never seemed to feel anything. _–We’ve met two of them, not including you, so there’s only one more.-_

 _One more?_ Virginia wondered who else would be important enough to Stark to warrant such a hold on him. _Can you tell me anything about them?_ So I can prepare some sort of impression, if that’s even possible.

Mm’aryn closed her eyes, hummed, and then grinned. _–He’s a sky-child.-_

…which meant he could be anything from a pilot to a parasailor to a hang glider to a skydiver. That was the problem she was finding with dragon-speech; they didn’t have exact words for some of the things humans did, so Virginia was frequently left scrambling to decipher what exactly Mm’aryn meant. Not that the dragon was all that fussed about it. As long as she knew Virginia understood her, Mm’aryn couldn’t care less about specifics.

Mm’aryn tilted her head consideringly, her eyes still closed. _–This one is old friends with Stark. His colors are_ all _over his soul and in the_ very _good way. Like that big guy, just now.-_ She opened her eyes and curled up, stretching her wings before settling in. _–I like them. Much better than the old, bald one.-_

 _You’re just a person-snob, aren’t you?_ Virginia knew she was projecting amusement, but she didn’t have to hound Stark for a few days and that counted as a weekend in her book. One of the first ones she’d had since she started this whole personal assistant thing, so she was gonna milk it for all it was worth. Mainly by spending some time at home with a good book and Mm’aryn, with maybe some dragon conversation later on. _I can’t believe it. Even_ you’re _becoming elitist now._

 _-Can you blame me when I have such an interesting human? The Stream Watcher said it’d be interesting and he’s not so bad at the job.-_ Mm’aryn’s mental voice was a bit whimsical, but the implications caused Virginia to pause. If she was reading the telepathic impressions correctly, Mm’aryn was implying that the dragons had someone who could _see into the future_. Excuse _her_ if that caused her thoughts to screech to a momentary halt.

 _Is that right? You think he could give us a heads-up on the next disaster we’ll have to clean up for Stark?_ Virginia thought it was a passable recovery after being thrown into such a loop.

 _-Can’t. Too small. I know the next big thing’s in about a decade, though.-_ Mm’aryn eyed her thoughtfully. _–It’s supposed to get_ very _busy after the next decade.-_

 _Great. That’s exactly what I need._ More _chaos._ Virginia wondered just how she was supposed to handle that when the past year proved to be ridiculously stressful already. She’d underestimated just how difficult it was to get Mr. Stark anywhere he didn’t want to go, especially when he didn’t want to go, as well as the number of conventions, board meetings, ceremonies, projects, and other minutiae that required his attention. For the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, he had an irritatingly short attention span for anything he wasn’t interested in.

Virginia sighed. The best way to deal with it was to take things a bit at a time. Which meant getting Stark to the three major meetings after New Year’s and checking up to make sure he was well on his way to finishing the next project.

But first… _I seem to recall you saying something about multicolored fire?_

Mm’aryn gave her the mental equivalent of wiggling her fingers. _–Magic.-_

Virginia laughed. _Show me when we get home?_

 _-Of course. Here’s hoping we don’t accidentally_ catch _things on fire.-_

_No alcohol until after the fireworks then._

_-Good idea.-_

Several hours later, Virginia and Mm’aryn managed to stuff the colorful fire into a magically-reinforced glass jar that sat on the countertop as fireworks went off over the ocean. They toasted to another year of Mr. Stark and SI, to dragon-bonds and human-friends, to magic and life, and to Virginia-who-was-becoming-Pepper and Mm’aryn-who-was-becoming-Virginia’s-slash-Pepper’s.

 

* * *

 

She’s been his PA long enough now to be completely unsurprised when Stark acts like a picky, spoiled brat to every military liaison they try to dump on him. The probationary liaisons try to demand and command, remain unbending and uncompromising, and that clearly pisses off the engineer in Stark. He talks over them and their demands, easily herding them here and there, and ultimately runs each and every one of them out of the building. Pe- _Virginia_ just sighs and tells the military to send their next candidate, while simultaneously smoothing ruffled and agitated feathers.

In all honesty, she’s not impressed. Shouldn’t they _know_ by now what Stark’s like and what sort of person _wouldn’t_ immediately tick him off? Stark and the military have been working together for _years_ ; she would’ve thought they’d have had some method figured out by now. Instead, they’re only now figuring out a way to streamline the communication process, which, she supposes, could be a direct result of finally having someone whose _job_ it is to ride herd on Stark and who’s apparently even more successful than Obadiah on average. Which is probably an exaggeration, but then again, he’s apparently much more productive than he’s ever been before, despite still missing a good half of his various functions and frequently signing paperwork only after she’s followed him around with it for _days_.

P- _Virginia_ skims their next candidate’s file—what she can read of it, that is—and notes that the military has been calling in higher and higher ranked people, the longer this goes on. Maybe they think Stark will respond better to authority, but Virginia could’ve told them that’s not the case. In fact, it’ll probably be the exact opposite; Stark tends to go out of his way to piss off what most people consider authority figures, in her experience. However, this Lt. Col. Rhodes is both an MIT graduate and an aerospace engineer, two things the military hasn’t exactly sent over before, so maybe he’ll fare better with Stark? Virginia hopes so, at least. The constant stream of annoyed military people leaving the building has gotten exasperating.

Mm’aryn flicks her tail and Virginia turns to welcome Lt. Col. Rhodes. He walks up with the now-familiar military confidence, back straight and shoulders back, and a rather neutral look on his face. Dark eyes flicker over her own presentation as she introduces herself and Rhodes shakes her hand firmly with a tight smile.

Though she doesn’t look at where Mm’aryn is lounging on top of a nearby cabinet, Virginia knows when she lifts her head to follow their path to where Stark is. She’s just getting Stark’s attention when she hears _–He’s the last one. Stark’s last named.-_

She sends back the impression of a raised eyebrow, even as she sees Stark break out into a cheerful grin that’s a touch more genuine than his usual media-specific one. Also, he’s not all that subtle when he greets Rhodes with a nickname and Virginia gives the two friends a polite smile when Stark introduces her as Pepper. They certainly have the countenance of two old friends, that’s for sure.

_So he is._

Figures. Only a _dragon_ would call an Air Force Lieutenant Colonel a _sky-child_.

Virginia returns to her own work, leaving the two friends to catch up or whatever they were planning on doing. It’s clear to her that the military _finally_ managed to pick the right liaison and she needs to make sure Rhodes will _remain_ SI’s military liaison, despite whatever politics might go down in the administrative levels. She also has a hunch that the afternoon meetings Stark was supposed to attend will have to be rescheduled if they need Stark’s presence, as he doesn’t seem to be all that interested in leaving his current company. With a silent sigh, she quickly reschedules two of them for later in the week and fires off another email, informing the meeting’s participants that Tony Stark would not be present today; apologies.

Mm’aryn sniffs the air, squints at the office doors, and makes a face. _–He smells weird. And his colors are funny-looking.-_ She rustles her wings a bit and shifts on her perch. _–They’re all rigid when you look at them one way, but all normal-looking when you look at them another.-_ She squints some more. _–Also? That’s a lot of silver-gray.-_

 _Well, he_ is _military. They tend to have a strict chain of command, which is probably where the rigidity is coming from, and they deal a lot with metal, as you should know by now._ Virginia playfully pokes her down the telepathic bond. _And smells weird how?_

Mm’aryn tilts her head thoughtfully. _–Like fire and metal and wind-in-the-sky and I’ve-got-your-back.-_ She pauses, disconcerted. _–I didn’t know you could smell loyalty…-_

_Is it a good smell at least?_

_-…I dunno. I think it’s more…comforting. Like sunning yourself on a flat rock or listening to the waves on the beach or sitting on a hillside and feeling the wind tug at you. Oh!-_ Virginia got the impression of snapping fingers or a light bulb blinking on. _–Like fire in the belly, curled up in your bed and content enough to drift off to sleep.-_

Virginia had a sudden, strong urge to share Mm’aryn’s soul-sight, but she quickly smothered the feeling. Now was most _definitely_ not the time.

_That…sounds very nice._

Mm’aryn huffed. _–Doesn’t it? Stark’s lucky._ He’s _got a life-friend and he doesn’t even know it.-_

_…life-friend?_

Mm’aryn shrugged. _-Mhm. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a lifelong friend. Someone who, given the choice, will always pick you, over and over and over again.-_

Virginia blinked. _Does that make us life-friends, too?_

 _-Not exactly?-_ Mm’aryn tilted her head, musing on how to explain. _–We’re a bit…soul-bound at this point because that’s how you anchor yourself on this side of the divide, but life-friends_ choose _each other. It’s the choosing that makes people life-friends and not soul-bound or life-mates or any of the others.-_

 _Okay. Then, can you explain what you mean by soul-bound?_ Virginia’s mental voice was a bit strained and the question came surrounded with alarm.

 _-Um, how do I put this…-_ Mm’aryn scooted to the edge of the cabinet and leaned her head over the edge. _–Did you never wonder why I only ever showed up during sunrise and sunset?-_

 _I’d assumed there was some sort of barrier that prevented dragons from just up and invading us._ Her voice was dry, as she tried to give off the illusion of working.

 _-Like we’d want to.-_ Mm’aryn snorted, amused. _–The barrier was thinnest at sunrise and sunset, so that was the only time I could visit as a dragonet. And with little to no magical prowess, I could slip under the fabric without triggering countermeasures designed to keep others from interfering with the humans._ However _, as a dragonet with a predisposition to be human-friend, I would one day wither away by a Watching Pool if I couldn’t find some way to_ stay _on this side of the divide. That requires an anchor, which fools the fabric into thinking I’m_ supposed _to be on this side of it, and so, as many,_ many _human-friend dragons have done before me, I bound my soul to my chosen human.-_

 _…that explains the why. Now, could we go back to the how and what, please?_ Mm’aryn pulled her head back and rested her chin on the edge of the cabinet, wincing a bit at the sardonic tone.

 _-Um, the frequent physical contact whenever I would show up and just friendly feelings in general. There’s usually also some sort of attempt at communication somewhere in there, but it’s not really a conscious thing…-_ Mm’aryn had pulled her wings in close and attempted to make herself look smaller. _–Soul-bonds form a, um, controlled telepathic and empathic between the participants, which can serve as anchors or grounds, if necessary. They only ever form between willing participants and it’s kinda like a Venn diagram with a very, very small overlap? Except the longer the participants have a good relationship, the stronger and more tied-together the overlap becomes to the point that dying can throw the other souls into, um, severance collapse.-_

Virginia stilled and her mental voice was chilled anger. _I’m sorry. What_ exactly _do you mean by ‘severance collapse’?_

Mm’aryn winced and curled up tighter in misery. _–You’d black out and then wake up_ knowing _that one of the other ends was gone. The same way you would for anyone else, I s’pose, but you’d know exactly who it was, when, how, where they were, and…the last thing they’d say to you.-_

Virginia…let that sink in for a moment, her fury at getting into something that sounded so important in _ignorance_ hesitantly fading in the face of Mm’aryn’s honest despair. Nothing that would physically alter the way things worked. Nothing that would really _interfere_ with her life, but… _so_ _much_ _pain_ if things ever took a turn for the worst.

Something about Mm’aryn’s description and her own thoughts tickled at an old memory, one of her mother’s stories that she hadn’t picked up in years. A story that she hadn’t read all that often because it had _hurt_ so _very_ much. Something about an adult and their dragon and losing them to a freak accident. Of learning to move on despite the pain and battling through it so that when they met again, they could say, “Look at all these things I’ve done, all these places I’ve been, all these people I met. I’ve been busy since you left, so that I could share them with you now. Let me tell you everything you’ve missed, my friend.”

The two were jerked out of their somber mood by Stark and Rhodes’ laughter as the two men came back into view, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders and heads together like two teens plotting hell. They glanced up as they passed her desk and Stark motioned for her to follow him.

“C’mon, Potts. Me and Rhodey are heading out to get some lunch and _you’ve_ been working way too long already. I don’t even know how you can stand doing all that paperwork when there are _way_ more interesting things to do.”

“ _Someone_ has to do it, Mr. Stark, seeing as you always seem to be busy with something,” Virginia replied on automatic, getting to her feet and collecting her stuff. She highly doubted she’d be getting much else done today, what with that sobering conversation with Mm’aryn and lunch with Stark and Rhodes.

“Of course I’m busy with something,” Stark complained as a lazy smile spread across Rhodes’ face. “I’m _always_ busy with something. If it’s not paperwork and the company, it’s inventing new tech. And if it’s not the tech, I’m at a conference or some function or something. And if it’s not _that_ , I’ve got some interview or demonstration or boring-ass meeting to sit through. I should probably take a break soon. Potts, can you schedule me a vacation?”

“I’m pretty sure you were just _on_ vacation last weekend, Mr. Stark,” Virginia returned dryly. “And you have a board meeting later this week that Mr. Stane says you have to be at.”

As Stark chattered on with Rhodes adding his input and Virginia automatically firing back responses, she reached out for Mm’aryn’s still miserable ball of shoulder-dragon and gently tugged at her to come. She felt Mm’aryn hesitantly reach back to her and then fall into the soul-bond equivalent of a hug, as her physical body took flight to land on Virginia’s shoulders. Mm’aryn curled around her neck and tucked her head in the hollow of Virginia’s throat, taking comfort from the steady beat she could feel there. They’d had a difficult conversation today and it was probably only going to get harder as they continued stumbling through the details, but Virginia Potts worked for the most irritating man on the planet and Mm’aryn had chosen Virginia years ago; between the two of them, they’d find a way to work things out.

 

* * *

 

The years passed in a mess of missed deadlines, constant rescheduling, and rolling with the landmines. Virginia finally slipped and began thinking of herself as Pepper three years in, since pretty much _everyone_ she worked with knew her as that by this point, even old coworkers. Around five years after she began working for Tony Stark (and he was most _definitely_ Tony or Mr. Stark, but never Anthony unless it was _Anthony Edward Stark_ ), he gave her access to his workshop basement, all the while rambling about how she was now part of a very special group of individuals and how she shouldn’t abuse her privileges and whatever else came to mind. She was introduced to JARVIS and Dum-E and U and Butterfingers, all of them robots or intelligences created by Mr. Stark to help him with his work. Not that they seemed all that competent, but Tony was as happy with them as he was anything, so she never really asked why they weren’t perfect little automatons.

The one and only time Mm’aryn came to Mr. Stark’s Malibu mansion with her, the ocean-colored dragon had trailed after her the entire time, eyeing the ceiling and the bots while hunching down to make herself as tiny as possible. Afterwards, Pepper’d asked her what she’d been so worried about and felt her heart skip a beat at Mm’aryn’s response.

 _-They’re alive, you know. That JARVIS and the moving metal things.-_ Mm’aryn’s tail flicked agitatedly and she hunkered down, despite being at home. _–And I’m pretty sure JARVIS could see me.-_

Pepper checked the next day, subtly asking JARVIS some leading questions, but the AI didn’t seem to know what she was talking about. Of course, he ended up being a bit suspicious for a while, but Pepper and Mm’aryn agreed that the dragon would have to stay home when Pepper went to Malibu from now on. She still tagged along when Pepper went to the office, though, since Tony hadn’t bothered to install JARVIS on _those_ systems yet.

 _You know, I really shouldn’t be surprised that Tony’d actually made_ people _._ Pepper swirled her glass of wine with a thoughtful look, one odd, free Saturday several weeks later. _He’s already broken a lot of other generally-accepted rules. Why_ shouldn’t _he have kids without actually getting anyone pregnant?_

Mm’aryn snorted and rolled onto her back, wings spread wide over Pepper’s rug. _–I didn’t realize humans could have children without a mate, but I suppose if you give life to your own creations, you could be considered a parent.-_ She wiggled and stretched, before rolling back onto her stomach. _–For a certain definition of parent, of course.-_

 _Was it because they had colors?_ Pepper had wondered how Mm’aryn could tell that they were alive.

Mm’aryn made a face and tilted her head to the side. _–Not really? I mean, pets can have colors, too, but they aren’t…what’s the right word…self-aware? Yeah, that. Self-aware.-_ She shrugged. _–They just_ feel _different. I dunno how else to describe it.-_

And life went on.

Pepper and Mm’aryn found they could share each other’s sight, though it gave them both a headache the first few times. Practice reduced the pain and increased the length, giving them something to do together as Pepper began spending more and more time at Malibu. Mm’aryn didn’t bother hiding her jealousy over that. She was a dragon; of _course_ she would get possessive over her human.

What she hadn’t expected was just _how_ _much_ she would react when Stark began unconsciously _courting_ Pepper. Sure, the two of them never even noticed the change, which she thought was a bit ridiculous, but it had her hackles rising and her wings rustling irritably. She _tried_ to keep it quiet, Pepper didn’t need to deal with a dragon’s territory issues as well as Stark’s constant chaos, but Mm’aryn wasn’t all that great at emotional control and her human got it out of her not even a month later.

 _Wait, so_ you _think Tony’s trying to_ court _me?_ Pepper was on the verge of laughter and Mm’aryn didn’t exactly appreciate the disbelief. Just because she wasn’t _human_...

 _-He doesn’t act like he does around you around anyone else, even his other named and colored.-_ Granted, two were probably life-friends and the last was a stand-in parent, but he didn’t act like that around his mates, either.

 _I’d hope not. I don’t think they’d appreciate that, if that’s even what he’s doing._ Pepper’s voice was dry. _What even makes you think that?_

Mm’aryn struggled to find the words to describe what she was beginning to see in his colors and his behavior. The shifting- _reaching_ of his colors on her soul, the way he was circling and always turning to her, the way his _kids_ were starting to color themselves in her soul and her in theirs. How sometimes, his soul would reach out and then pull back on the days after he’d mated, as though ashamed of himself. How was she supposed to communicate the way a _proper, draconic courting_ _worked?_

Bemused by what she’d managed to catch, Pepper offered up what she thought was a reasonable explanation. _I’m his PA. Of course he’s going to turn to me._

And, for the first time since she’d arrived on this side of the divide, Mm’aryn blew smoke in frustration, spun around, leaped for the balcony, snapped out her wings and tail in the draconic version of “fuck this”, and shot out over the railing of the apartment’s balcony, disappearing from sight in two flaps of her wings.

Pepper blinked in shock, before hesitantly walking to the railing to scan the skies for Mm’aryn. Though she knew the dragon was long gone, she somehow couldn’t help looking for her anyway. And it struck her that this was the first time the dragon had willingly left her behind since she’d first managed to anchor herself to Pepper’s soul.

For a moment, Pepper could feel the tidal wave of panic threatening to drown her in _alone-abandoned-leftbehind_ , but she pulled herself together. _Soul-bound_ , she reminded herself. _We’re soul-bound. I’ll feel it, if she’s gone._

…it was still a lot quieter than she expected in her apartment that night.

 

* * *

 

Pepper was nothing if not adaptable, so the _lack_ of Mm’aryn in the following months quickly became routine. She was still Tony Stark’s personal assistant, still busy rescheduling meetings and hustling Tony to and fro, still tracking all of Tony’s commitments. Just because she had no comforting shoulder-dragon to go home and cuddle or talk with didn’t mean she couldn’t suddenly function. So what if she sometimes missed the commentary in the back of her head or the way soul colors could make a negotiation easier? She was _fine_.

“Have you taken a break recently?” Tony asked, peering at her momentarily over his sunglasses.

“Yes, I have, Mr. Stark.” Pepper resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“You look _way_ too tired to be awake.”

“Coffee is a wonderful thing.”

“Am I working you too hard?”

“I’m only working as hard as you are.”

“Of course I’m working you too hard.” He spun around and pointed at her. “ _You_ should take the night off.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’ll actually be there when they give you the award?”

“I—Of course I’ll be there. Why wouldn’t I be there? It’s an award.” He paused for a moment and just looked at her, before sliding into the car.

Pepper sighed. “Keep an eye on him, will you, Happy?”

Happy grinned. “You got it, Pepper.”

She watched the limo peel out of the driveway and sighed again, cutting herself off mid-telepathic thought. An early night would probably be a good idea, since she knew Tony had a flight to catch and she doubted he’d be on time. She debated giving Rhodey a heads-up about Tony giving her the night off, but then decided that he’d probably hear about it before Tony even arrived.

At least she’d get maybe a day or two off after Tony left for Afghanistan to celebrate her birthday, before diving back into coordinating Tony’s schedule for him.

 

* * *

 

Pepper arrived at the mansion early the next morning, intending to hustle Tony to his flight to Afghanistan, but she stopped short when JARVIS reported that Tony’d had company the night before. With a roll of her eyes and ignoring the pang that came whenever Mm’aryn would normally have made a comment, she collected the woman’s pile of clothes and sent them out to be dry-cleaned, while simultaneously asking JARVIS to call up the usual driver to take the woman wherever she wanted.

Not long afterwards, Pepper had the woman’s clothes and found her fiddling with one of the dials in the living room hallway. She reeled off the usual speech about having the clothes cleaned and the car waiting, only to have the woman—Christine Everhart, _Vanity Fair_ , if she wasn’t mistaken—drawl at her, as though sleeping with Tony for a night was the better deal than what she had. Pepper had to tamp down _hard_ on her immediate response, but her reply was no less edged than it would be against any other who had the _audacity_ to challenge her position in this house.

Female pissing contest done and Everhart escorted to the door to ensure she left, Pepper then went to collect her errant boss. No doubt he’d holed himself up in his basement until she’d dealt with the woman, but there were still a few things she needed him to deal with before she chivvied him out to the plane.

A brief scolding, one maneuvered decision to buy a Pollack, some verbal bantering, and a reminder that today was her birthday later, Pepper managed to get Tony out of the mansion and racing Happy to the airport to meet with Rhodey before they took off for Afghanistan. She was now free for the day until the weapons demonstration occurred, which would probably take place sometime tonight or early tomorrow morning local time; everything else that needed to be done had already been dealt with or could wait.

She returned to her apartment, took off her shoes, and grabbed a book to read on her couch with a glass of lemonade as she ignored the missing, dragon-shaped presence in her life. It would be the first birthday she’d celebrated alone since…huh. It’d be the first birthday she’d celebrated alone, ever.

Great.

She was still alone when she got the call from Rhodey early the next morning.

 

* * *

 

He was long used to having blood on his hands, physically, if not metaphorically. It came with being a doctor. This time was no different, though he _wished_ he had access to better supplies and conditions; open-heart surgery in a cave opened the doors to all sorts of infections and bacteria that could _easily_ kill Stark, if the shrapnel didn’t do it first.

He doubted their captors minded, though. So long as Stark lived long enough to build them whatever they wanted, they probably couldn’t care less.

 _-Matters to you.-_ A small voice whispered under his surgeon’s focus, so as not to distract him too badly. _–Still just a young one, isn’t he?-_

…not so much, but enough that he’d try to get Stark out. He himself didn’t really have much left, once the terrorists had gone through his home. The odd, brown lizard that somehow managed to remain undetected by their captors shifted restlessly before falling still and he didn’t think too hard on how he knew that when he hadn’t shifted his focus off of Stark’s chest cavity since this surgery started. All things to deal with in due time.

Yinsen straightened and reached for the electromagnet. They still had a ways to go, after all.

 

* * *

 

Once Stark was resting on a cot, he turned to the telepathic lizard and gave it a considering look. Brown, mountain-earth scales on a kitten-sized lizard and wary, silver, slit-pupil eyes; Yinsen was very sure he’d never seen anything like it, especially since it had some sort of odd-looking growths on either side of its spine that gave it a bit of a hunched look.

“And, who might you be?” he asked softly, so as not to attract their captors’ attention. After the surgery, he’d turned that brief moment of conversation over and over in his mind, but there was never any indication that the thoughts had been anything more than a product of his own conscience. Still, he couldn’t help thinking there was something about the lizard that was off. _Particularly_ since their captors seemed to see right through it without a problem and Yinsen honestly didn’t have much else to do right now.

The lizard flicked its tail and peered at him with one eye in a birdlike manner. _–I’m Fa’loraen. It’s nice to meet you.-_

Yinsen huffed a laugh and leaned back on his makeshift seat, giving the lizard an amused look. “Well. I suppose it’s nice to meet you, too, Fa’loraen.” He mused for a moment on the oddity of this situation. “You wouldn’t happen to know whether I’m currently dreaming, would you?”

Fa’loraen blinked and tilted its head to the side. _–I don’t know. Don’t humans only dream when they’re asleep?-_

“Not always, but I suppose I’m not currently dreaming if Tony Stark is lying on that cot over there.” He glanced back at said cot and it did indeed hold one recovering CEO, so he decided that he probably wasn’t asleep at the moment. Maybe he’d been awake too long? But the lizard had still been there when he’d had more than enough sleep. The product of a bored mind? Then why would it still be here when he had a patient to look after now?

“Could you tell me what you are, then? I’ve never seen anything like you,” he finally decided on after several moments of silence.

The lizard looked up at him and blinked again. _–I’m a dragon.-_

“Shouldn’t you have wings then?” Yinsen was quite sure that dragons should have wings, but maybe that was only Western ones? Eastern dragons were supposedly able to fly by magic, he recalled. He was also sure that either the words hadn’t quite settled in yet or he was too exhausted to react properly because, as a scientist, he shouldn’t be taking the creature at its word.

 _-I do.-_ It looked confused and then, oh, _that’s_ what those growths were. They weren’t growths at all, but _wings_ folded down to the body.

”Huh. Imagine that.” Yinsen crouched down to get a better look at the outstretched wings, before freezing and feeling a momentary spike of terror because _he’d forgotten about the cameras._ He turned dread-filled eyes to the dragon, only to get a comforting pat on the knee.

 _-They can’t see you crouching down right now. I made it look like you were still sitting and thinking on the seat.-_ As though that wasn’t an amazing feat of holographics or physics.

”How?”

The dragon blinked at him again. _–Magic. How else?-_

It was Yinsen’s turn to blink at the dragon. He then decided he had been up for far too long and needed to get some sleep. “Can you keep an eye out for the other men and wake me up if they come this way? Or if Stark gets up?” Yinsen thought for a moment. “Actually, can you just wake me up in about an hour?”

 _-Alright.-_ The dragon sounded bemused, but Yinsen didn’t bother giving it too much thought. The exhausted doctor fell into his own cot and was out the moment he was mostly horizontal.

Fa’loraen just kind of blinked at the older man, before padding over to the door and curling up on the other side of the frame. Didn’t wanna get hit when it opened and all that, but…his human was weird.

 

* * *

 

By the time Stark woke up, Yinsen had resigned himself to either hallucinating the dragon and its comments or that there actually _was_ a dragon, which meant that _magic_ was something real, as well. It was an irritating conundrum for a scientist, especially since he didn’t think their captors were all that interested in keeping the two of them mentally incapacitated if they wanted Stark to build them a weapon.

 _-He’s awake.-_ As if he couldn’t hear the man pulling out the makeshift oxygen tube.

The dragon flicked his tail and glanced back at Stark, as the metal container of water fell to the ground. _–He just knocked the water to the ground. Aaaand now he’s reaching for the other bottle.-_ He felt Fa’loraen wince as Stark pulled the wires taut.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he finally told the man without turning from his shaving. Fa’loraen whimpered in sympathy as Stark began panicking and pulled at his dressings, exposing his new souvenir to the dry desert air. Yinsen gave Stark a moment of privacy, finishing up his shaving and beginning to cook some beans for the two of them. He hadn’t yet seen Fa’loraen eat, but the dragon never seemed to be hungry. Yinsen didn’t bother trying to stretch their tiny food supply to accommodate the dragon who was just as likely to be an obligate carnivore as an omnivore or to just need water or something. If Fa’loraen was hungry, he’d better speak up.

Stark eventually pushed himself upright and grabbed the mirror Yinsen offered him to examine the electromagnet embedded in his chest. He almost missed the man’s mumbled question under the crackling of the cooking fire and his own whistling.

“What I..?” He chuckled, though he wasn’t amused at all. “What I did was to save your life. I removed all the shrapnel I could, but there’s a lot left and it’s headed into your atrial septum.” He placed the pan down out of the fire, so the beans wouldn’t burn and turned to look at Stark, picking up the vial filled with shrapnel as he did so.

“Here, wanna see? Have a souvenir.” He rattled the vial and then tossed it to Stark. “Take a look.”

Once Stark was looking at the shrapnel pieces, Yinsen continued on a related thread. “I’ve seen a lot of wounds like that in my village. We call them the ‘walking dead’ because it takes about a week for the barbs to reach the vital organs.”

“What is this?”

There was only one ‘this’ Stark would currently be interested in. “That? Is an electromagnet. Hooked up to a car battery. And it’s keeping the shrapnel from entering your heart, hm?”

Yinsen went back to cooking their food and watched out of the corner of his eye as Stark zipped up his jacket, before looking up at something near the ceiling behind him. Yinsen turned to check what it was, but it was only the camera. He looked back at Stark, with a flippant, little smile on his face. “That’s right. Smile.” _After all, neither of us are likely to make it out of here alive._

A moment’s silence, but Yinsen didn’t want to deal with silence anymore if he didn’t have to. “We met once, you know, at a technical conference in Bern.”

“I don’t remember,” Stark mumbled, looking off to the side as he searched his memory.

Yinsen couldn’t help the chuckle. “No, you wouldn’t. If I had been that drunk, I wouldn’t have been able to stand, much less give a lecture on integrated circuits.”

“Where are we?”

A shot of alarm that wasn’t his.

Yinsen cut himself off and reached for Stark as a man yelled at them to stand with their hands up. His voice was quiet and urgent, not wanting their captors to think they were plotting to ambush them or something.

“Come on. Stand up.” He motioned harshly, but his grip was gentle on Stark’s arm. “Stand up. Do as I do.” Yinsen pulled them over to a clearer area and away from the fire, raising his hands. “Put your hands up.” Stark managed to lift his arms, just as the doors opened.

Upon catching sight of their captors’ weaponry, Stark muttered, “Those are my guns. How did they get my guns?”

Yinsen felt a spike of terror jolt through him. These men didn’t like it _at all_ when their prisoners sounded like they were plotting something and they took very… _final_ measures to ensure that didn’t happen. “Do you understand me? _Do as I do._ ”

They didn’t seem to have noticed this time, but Yinsen’s heart was still racing as Ahu Bakar cheerfully welcomed Tony Stark. When he was done, he pointedly gestured at Yinsen and the doctor hesitantly translated for him.

Cautiously shifting his eyes towards his fellow prisoner, Yinsen relayed, “He says welcome, Tony Stark, the most famous mass murderer in the history of America.”

Bakar gestured with open arms. “He is honored,” Yinsen translated.

“He wants you to build a missile,”—Bakar cut Yinsen off, correcting him and Yinsen made the appropriate correction—“the Jericho missile that you demons—”

Bakar cut him off again, handing Yinsen a picture to give to Stark, which he did. “This one.”

Now that the demand had been communicated—and it _was_ a demand, no matter how nicely put—everyone in the cavern fell silent, waiting expectantly to hear Stark’s answer. Yinsen was tense, since he didn’t know which way Stark would go. The other men were expectant; they had the upper hand here and they knew it. In the back of Yinsen’s mind, Fa’loraen held himself still as a snake, ready to strike the moment he was given the chance, despite Yinsen’s attempts to have him calm down.

It didn’t matter, though, because the moment they understood that Stark refused, the men bundled him out, amidst shouting to ‘convince him to agree’ and that he ‘might be more amenable after a bath.’ Yinsen felt a bit bad for him, but he was also guiltily relieved that it wasn’t him who’d been dragged out. He dropped back into his seat and went back to cooking his beans for when they’d bring Stark back, hands still as steady as before the men entered.

 

* * *

 

It took Stark a few days to break, impressive for a man who never seemed to have many difficulties in his life. He and Stark were then taken outside for the first time in about a week, with a bag over Stark’s head. Yinsen supposed Stark _had_ been the more troublesome prisoner so far, while he had merely done what the men wanted after they’d killed his family. The desert sun was a relief all the same after being stuck in the dim, dark cave for so long. Yinsen felt more awake than he’d been since he was first brought in.

The small group walked right down the middle of all the weaponry, giving Stark a good look at everything these men had access to. Near the approximate center, Bakar stopped and asked Stark what he thought, before giving Yinsen another pointed look. Ah, so he was only here as a translator once again.

“He…wants to know what do you think,” Yinsen told Stark steadily, ignoring how Fa’loraen was curled up behind his feet and enjoying the heat.

Stark quietly replied, “I think you’ve got a lot of my weapons.”

Yinsen relayed that and Bakar paced a half-circle, gesturing at the weapon cache and speaking. “He says, uh, they have everything you need to build a Jericho missile. He wants you to make a list of materials.”

Another pause as Bakar spoke again. “He says, uh, for you to start working immediately and, when you’re done, he will set you free.”

Bakar stuck his hand out and Stark slowly took his hand with his familiar, media smile. Quietly, moving his mouth as little as possible, he mumbled something that made Yinsen think this was not a man shocked by the reality of the world any longer. This was a man who was getting to his feet and preparing for a fight, even battered and bleeding. “No, he won’t.”

Yinsen couldn’t help the automatic smile as Stark acknowledged his situation. “No, he won’t.”

Fa’loraen got to his feet and stretched, deliberately spreading his claws and raising his wings. Even the dragon could feel the fighting tension in the air.

 

* * *

 

Back in their cavern, Stark stared into the fire as Yinsen finished up a few more things for the night. Fa’loraen had curled up right on the edge of the fire, silver eyes glinting in the firelight as he watched the two humans in silence.

“I’m sure they’re looking for you, Stark,” Yinsen tried to reassure Stark, making his way to his own seat on the other side of the fire. “But, they will never find you in these mountains.”

Yinsen sat down and watched Stark expectantly. Though the man had been excessively subdued since he’d woken up, Stark hadn’t seemed like the type of man who would let a theft of this magnitude pass. The despondent look didn’t go away, though, so Yinsen prepared himself to find a way to rile Stark up. A man wallowing in despair was nothing more than a dead man, after all.

 _-What does that say about you, then, that you’ll encourage another human while hiding your own pain?-_ Fa’loraen twitched his tail and blinked at the two men.

Yinsen let the question roll through him, like clouds in the sky, untouched by the silent prodding. He couldn’t help his jab back because the little bit of privacy he had was still something he’d fight for. _Stay out of my head._

“Look, what you just saw,” Yinsen tried, “ _that_ is your legacy, Stark.” He paused. “Your _life’s_ _work_ in the hands of those _murderers_.”

“ Is that how you want to go out?” Yinsen demanded. “Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to do something about it?”

“I bet you I do anything, they’re gonna kill me, you, either way, and if they don’t, I’ll probably be dead in a week,” Stark finally said and Yinsen let that sink in for a moment, riding down his spike of fury and indignation. Yinsen had been trapped here longer than Stark, but here he was, still alive, still trying to rekindle Stark’s living spark. Here he was trying to revive a man willing to lie down and die because his doctor’s instincts wouldn’t let him accept that he’d done everything he could until Stark was either leaving here alive or dead on the floor.

Fa’loraen bared razor-sharp ivory fangs, coasting on Yinsen’s emotional fire, and tapped his claws on the stony floor. _–I knew there was a dragon-soul in there somewhere.-_

Yinsen ignored that for a moment, filing it to deal with later. There was something unsettling about feeling pride and satisfaction from another when you wanted to _hurt_ the people who’d hurt you so much. When you finally admitted to yourself that you wanted them to _hurt_. “Well then, this is a very important week for you, isn’t it? Hm?”

And whatever Yinsen had said this time caught Stark’s dwindling flame as life flooded Stark’s previously-dead eyes. This man, this genius engineer had finally found the idea that would keep him going and Yinsen hid the sharp, triumphant grin that wanted to spread across his face. Because Stark would _live_ now that he’d decided that and there was nothing more satisfying than hauling a life back from the edge.

 _…I need to talk to you. Properly._ It wouldn’t do to accomplish anything less than his fellow prisoner. And, who knows? Perhaps the dragon had his own way of helping out.

 

* * *

 

The next day was very busy as Stark began listing all the things he needed and Yinsen had to translate so that Bakar would understand. Stark spoke like a man who was used to getting his own way and everything he could ever want, which made it a bit nerve-wracking for Yinsen as he tried to keep up with Stark’s speech. Fa’loraen hissed silently and lithely dodged his way over to Stark and Yinsen, clambering up Yinsen’s pant leg to sit on his shoulder. Yinsen couldn’t help flinching as sharp claws nicked his skin, but the dragon didn’t even draw blood and settled across his shoulder like a kitten. The part that constantly baffled Yinsen, though, was the way no one seemed to notice the dragon in plain view, like he was invisible or something.

The thought drew him up short. Right. Magic. Invisibility. Fa’loraen said something to that effect when he first appeared, didn’t he.

Once everything was built or placed to Stark’s preferences, all the men were shooed out and Bakar cheerfully wished them luck, before closing and locking the door once more. There was no time to have a proper conversation with Fa’loraen, though, because Stark was immediately getting down to work and actually started a conversation himself.

“How many languages do you speak?” Stark’s voice was steadier, more similar to the man Yinsen had briefly met at the 2000 Tech Convention in Bern than the subdued, quiet man who’d been his fellow prisoner for the last week. The corners of his mouth quirked up at more evidence that Stark was grabbing hold of his own life, but Yinsen smoothed it out. They were still trapped here, after all, and he wasn’t entirely sure Stark had a plan.

“A lot. But, apparently not enough for this place.” He watched Stark put his hand into one of his own missiles. “They speak Arabic, Urdu, Dari, Pashto, Mongolian, Farsi, Russian…”

“Who are these people?” Stark murmured and Yinsen had to stomp _hard_ on the part of himself that rejoiced at Stark’s return to life. Fa’loraen rumbled contently on Yinsen’s shoulder, where he’d remained even after all the other men left, silver eyes watching curiously as Stark moved with confidence.

“They…are your loyal customers, sir. They call themselves the Ten Rings.” And the fact that Stark was looking him in the eye was even more reason to hold himself emotionally steady.

Yinsen watched Stark fuss with another of his missiles that was propped up on the floor, before crouching down. “You know, we might be more productive if you include me in the planning process?” Stark didn’t seem to actually register the question as he made an agreeing noise and then continued with whatever he was doing.

Fa’loraen shifted his weight on Yinsen’s shoulder. _–So, this is what it’s like to watch another master at work. All confidence and surety and efficiency.-_

Since he had nothing else that he could contribute to Stark’s efforts, Yinsen actually replied to the dragon. _Another master? Who was the first one?_

Fa’loraen blinked and looked at Yinsen. _–You, of course.-_

Stark wiggled something out of the missile’s internal systems and held it with a pair of tongs. “Okay. We don’t need this.” He then carelessly tossed the rest of the structure behind him and Yinsen tracked the item a bit incredulously as it crunched onto the rocky floor.

He quickly turned his attention back to whatever Stark found more important, but he couldn’t identify it as anything more than some sort of metal. “What is that?”

Stark held it up, so it was illuminated properly. “That’s palladium. Point one five grams. We need at least one point _six_ , so why don’t you go break down the other eleven.”

Yinsen looked from Stark’s face to the metal in the tongs, as he pushed away from Stark’s makeshift work desk. _Well, I_ did _ask for this._

 

* * *

 

 _So, what is it that you can do?_ Yinsen wasn’t entirely sure how one went about beginning a conversation with a dragon, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to treat Fa’loraen like any other decent person.

 _-Do?-_ Fa’loraen tilted his head to the side as he leaped down to the ground so as not to make things difficult for Yinsen. _–In general or for this particular instance?-_

Yinsen hesitated, though he continued with his work for Stark. _In general._

 _-You’re the only one who knows I’m here and can see me on this side right now.-_ Fa’loraen studied Yinsen for a moment. _–I can hide things from everyone, if you need me to. I can navigate these tunnels with little to no problem and find my way anywhere I need to. I can try to tunnel us a way out, if you really think that’ll work. I can slice their throats to ribbons as they sleep.-_ He rustled his wings and flicked his tail, baring his teeth in a parody of a smile. _-…is that what you wanted to know?-_

There was a faint frown on Yinsen’s face as he pulled out the section Stark wanted and brought it to the engineer’s desk. _I would have thought you would want to kill them all yourself, with the way you were so happy to see me acknowledging that I wanted revenge._

If a dragon could scowl, Fa’loraen was doing it right this moment. He rose to his feet and lashed his tail from side to side like an agitated cat, flexing his claws and scraping them against the stone floor. _–Acknowledging the fact and acting on it are two different things, Yinsen._ You _would_ never _harm the murderers, regardless of how much you want them to_ hurt _for hurting you.-_ Fa’loraen snapped his jaws irritably, wings opening halfway to make himself look bigger. _–And, while I would_ love _to tear them to pieces for you, it would_ rip you apart _if you thought I did it for you. So, I’ll sit here and watch you chase your death because even if you can’t feel me,_ I can _and I_ refuse _to hurt you more than you’ve already been hurt.-_

Yinsen…paused in his work and took a good, long look at the creature he hadn’t given more than a passing glance since that time after Stark’s surgery, when he was exhausted and wrung-out and just _really_ needed some sleep. Fa’loraen was still bristling, offended at the very suggestion that he would ignore Yinsen’s innermost heart, but under that—and it was so _very_ difficult to decipher the dragon’s body language when he hadn’t given Fa’loraen much thought after that first conversation—the dragon seemed worn and tired and maybe already grieving for a man who couldn’t seem to work up the effort to continue living.

 _I’m sorry._ Yinsen said as he went back to work. No use tipping off their captors to such a valuable individual.

…no use bringing Stark’s attention to someone he would likely never be able to see.

Fa’loraen seemed to deflate, pulling his wings back in and curling up tight to watch him work with sad, silver eyes. _-…don’t apologize for something you’re not actually sorry about.-_

_…sorry._

Yinsen continued pulling the missiles apart in silence, feeling Fa’loraen’s gaze on him the entire time. With that exchange, they’d said all they needed to say and everything else would fall as it would. There was nothing more they could do.

 

* * *

 

They were taking a break from the work to make sure Stark’s arc reactor would actually do as he said it would and playing a game of backgammon to pass the time.

“Good roll,” Yinsen said when he saw Stark’s latest move. “Good roll.”

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from,” Stark pointed out, as he checked the pot of tea.

Yinsen tossed the dice for his turn before he answered. “I’m from a small town, called Gulmira.” He looked back at the board to make his move. “It’s actually a nice place.”

“Got a family?”

“Yes.” _–Liar.-_ “And I will see them, when I leave here.”

Fa’loraen’s voice was bitter in Yinsen’s mind. _–All true and yet not. A doctor with a silver tongue and so much still before him, yet he chooses to find the fastest way back to his family. Why did_ my soul _have to choose_ yours _?-_

Yinsen ignored Fa’loraen’s commentary. “And you, Stark?”

Stark made his own move on the backgammon board, his face twitching into a momentary, self-deprecating smirk. “Nothing.”

“Nothing, hm,” Yinsen said to himself, before looking at Stark again. “So, you are a man who has everything. And nothing.”

The side of Stark’s mouth quirked up for less than a second, fully agreeing with the statement, and Yinsen couldn’t help the brief flash of pity. To have no one else in the world was a pain he wouldn’t wish on anyone.

 _-He_ has _people.-_ Fa’loraen interjected sullenly, though he hadn’t come close to Yinsen in weeks. The dragon was curled up near the fire and watching the two men play, though Yinsen could see that he wasn’t any less exhausted than he had been during their last major conversation. _–Their colors are all over his soul. He even has a dragon-bond-human as one of his named, as well as children of some sort.-_

But that only reinforced Yinsen’s determination to get Stark out of here. _He_ still had something to go back to, after all; Yinsen would only ever go back to ashes.

Fa’loraen accidentally let slip a keen at that thought before abruptly cutting himself off and burrowing his snout into his wings. Lost in their own thoughts, both Yinsen and Fa’loraen completely overlooked Stark’s sudden stillness that just happened to coincide with that sound.

 

* * *

 

Back in Malibu, Pepper was curled up on one side of Tony’s couch, while Rhodey slumped into the cushions on the other end. It was a somber evening almost two months after Tony had first disappeared in the deserts of Afghanistan in a burst of fire and blood, and his unacknowledged chosen family circled closer together as the world urged them to give up. Rhodey’d been forced to take a week of leave after he’d run himself ragged over the past month and a half, scouring every corner of Afghanistan for Tony’s location. _Pepper’d_ been told to take some time off from managing the company because Obadiah had everything in hand and _one_ of them should get some time to remember everything Tony was. JARVIS had his own search going on in the background, but he was having just as much luck as the other, more physically human members of Tony’s family; that is to say, none. The bots could only mope in Tony’s basement, occasionally pinging a question to JARVIS every once in a while to ask if he had any news.

Rhodey finally broke the heavy silence with a sentence he’d repeated many times since Tony’d disappeared. “I should’ve gone with him, Pepper. I should’ve been there to get him out.”

“You couldn’t have known, Rhodey.” Pepper sighed, curling up tighter and feeling just all-out miserable. Losing two of the most important people in her life within months of each other was almost like a sucker punch to the gut. It wasn’t _fair._ “The weapons demonstrations were always safe enough, especially with the US Armed Forces keeping an eye on him. It’s not like there was any _sign_ that this one would be different.”

“Besides, Sir would not have been very happy if you’d been killed, Lt. Col. Rhodes,” JARVIS pointed out.

Rhodey blew out a breath at that, reluctantly acknowledging the point. Still, he couldn’t help slapping the sofa several moments later with a loud curse. “Dammit, Tony! You better get your ass back here soon, man, or you’re gonna owe me a new plane.”

Pepper twitched a smile at that. “He already owes me another two or three pairs of shoes for leaving me to deal with the media fallout and R&D by myself.”

“Sir will also owe me an upgrade and a tracking chip, so we will not lose track of him again,” JARVIS added, amused and pretending to be longsuffering.

Rhodey barked out a laugh at that, while Pepper stifled a giggle. “You got that right, J. It’d be _so_ _much_ easier to keep track of him that way.”

“And we’d never have to worry about making sure he’s where he’s supposed to be.”

They traded hysteria-edged grins, fighting off the looming dread that Tony would never make his way back to them. There’d been no ransom demands, no sudden upswing in the tech levels of any particular group, no unidentified or fully identifiable bodies showing up in the middle of nowhere. It was almost like Tony had vanished in an explosion in the middle of the day.

Pepper felt her eyes prick with the beginning of tears and she fought them off, _hard_. The last time she’d cried, she’d just put her mom in the ground and there was no way she was planning on crying for anything less than a repeat event. She hadn’t even cried when Mm’aryn left and Tony’s disappearance was now making her occasionally imagine the dragon’s voice.

“Lt. Col. Rhodes, Ms. Potts, if you could direct your attention to the ocean-facing windows…” Pepper almost missed JARVIS’ surprised and slightly alarmed request over the urgent voice echoing over the long-quiet telepathic bond.

_-VIRGINIA!-_

While Rhodey gave JARVIS a confused look before turning to look, Pepper leapt to her feet and raced over to the windows, blue eyes scanning the landscape for the familiar shape of her soul-bound dragon. She didn’t manage to spot the fast-moving blur until it was coming in to land on the balcony’s railing, wings remaining half open to help her balance.

“What the—”

“JARVIS. Open the balcony windows,” Pepper cut Rhodey off with a brief, apologetic glance and JARVIS did as she asked with a clearly skeptical silence.

“Pepper, wha—?”

 _-Virginia, Pepper. He’s still here, isn’t he? Tell me he’s still here.-_ Mm’aryn’s voice was a bit frantic, even as she leaped into Pepper’s outstretched arms.

 _Tony?_ Pepper felt a pang of pain at the reminder, but it was put aside for the moment as she basked in the feeling of connection that she’d sorely missed. _No. He’s gone. Disappeared two months ago after a weapons demonstration in Afghanistan. Mm’aryn, what…?_

 _-Lizard piss on a mouse’s eye.-_ Mm’aryn swore and Pepper blinked in shock. She’d never heard the dragon swear in all the years she’d known her. _–Magic-stealing, territory-encroaching, wing-tearing piece of lizard shit on a black hole’s event horizon.-_

Mm’aryn’s wings were spread out and up, making her look a lot bigger than she actually was. They were also twitching on the ends and her claws were flexing repeatedly into Pepper’s arms and torso. Mm’aryn snapped her jaws and turned in Pepper’s arms to roar out a stream of blue-white fire into the sky above the balcony, still aware enough in her panic-rage to reduce the amount of damage control Pepper would have to do once she went back to work.

“Jesus!” Rhodey swore, raising his arms to shield his face from the intense heat emanating from the stream of flames.

“Ms. Potts,” JARVIS’ alarmed voice called out, even as Mm’aryn cut her flames off, huffing out smoke and curling up in Pepper’s arms. “Ms. Potts, are you alright?”

“Yeah…I mean, yes. I’m fine, JARVIS,” Pepper automatically replied. _Mm’aryn?_

“Pepper, what’s going on?” Rhodey eyed the dragon suspiciously, more than a little concerned about Pepper’s safety. Not the least because Tony would kick his ass if anything happened to Pepper under his watch.

Silver eyes looked up at her, still wild and disbelieving, but also apologetic and guilty. _-…I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I was supposed to be here when he disappeared, so you wouldn’t be alone.-_ Mm’aryn nestled deeper into Pepper’s arms. _–M’sorry…-_

 _Oh._ Pepper blinked watery eyes and curled tighter around Mm’aryn, before what she said sunk in. _Wait. You_ knew _he was going to disappear?_

“Ms. Potts?” JARVIS interrupted, sounding a bit worried.

 _-I, uh, possibly?-_ Mm’aryn winced at Pepper’s anger. _–Would it help if I said I might know where he is…?-_

“Pepper. What’s going _on_?” Rhodey repeated with a little more emphasis. “What _is_ that you’re holding and how did it blow fire like that from nowhere?”

Pepper pulled herself together, feeling a little bit vindictive about things now that she knew Mm’aryn had been keeping _important_ things from her. “Gentlemen, this is my soul-bound dragon, Mm’aryn. Mm’aryn, Rhodes and JARVIS.” Pepper looked at Rhodey, since he was the only one with a physical body currently in sight. “She apparently might have some information for us on Tony’s whereabouts.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Did you say _dragon_?” Rhodey asked incredulously and then immediately changed tracks as his brain latched onto the more personally-relevant information. “No, nevermind that now. What was that about information on Tony?”

“I’m sorry. I’m not entirely sure I understand.” JARVIS sounded disbelieving. “Ms. Potts, you say this _creature_ ”—“Dragon,” Pepper corrected as Mm’aryn bared her teeth, both of them offended at JARVIS’ choice of words—“…dragon may have information none of us are privy to that could lead us to Sir’s location?”

“That’s what she said,” Pepper told them pleasantly, ignoring the way Mm’aryn was shifting uncomfortably in her solid grip. She looked expectantly at her armful of dragon, who looked like she was having second thoughts. “Well?”

 _-…you_ know _I have problems trying to navigate using human terms.-_ Mm’aryn huffed reluctantly, projecting so that both Rhodes and JARVIS could also hear her. Both man and machine took on a disconcerted air.

“Just try your best,” Pepper said. “JARVIS can help us clarify, as long as you use common landmarks.”

Mm’aryn sighed and then began pulling up the information she’d learned just before rushing back to Pepper. A place of heat and sand and little water. A cave mouth at the foot of the mountains on the edge of the sand. Wind rising high during the day. Piles and piles of boxes and crates, all of them labeled Stark Industries. The constellations in the night sky, not three nights ago. A familiar face overlaid upon a shifting mass of colors and shock at the drastic change. A brown colleague, bitter and already grieving, passing the message along for the other human-friend. _–Does that work?-_

“Searching constellation and landscape patterns now,” JARVIS said, as Pepper and Rhodey readjusted to reality.

“The mountains seem familiar,” Pepper observed thoughtfully, used to this type of dragon-speech and easily capable of switching between dragon-thought and human-thought. “Is it possible they didn’t take him all that far from where the caravan was ambushed?”

Rhodey groaned and put a hand to his head. “How can you _not_ get a headache from that? Is it some kind of PA thing?”

“It’s actually a Pepper thing,” Pepper told him, a small grin growing on her face as hope bloomed in her heart. “Don’t worry. Everything straightens out eventually. Just give it a few more moments.”

Rhodey opened one eye to glare weakly at Pepper, but he quickly closed that eye and carefully made his way back to the couch. “For the record, I’m never doing that again,” he declared as he dropped onto the couch, a statement Mm’aryn snorted disbelievingly at. Rhodey clearly ignored her, though he was frowning at her reaction. “But, yeah. I agree with Pepper. That’s probably still somewhere in Afghanistan. If you can narrow down the search area, J, I’ll just have to talk my way back onto the rescue team and then we can go bring our boy home.”

JARVIS beeped acknowledgement. “I’ve managed to narrow the search area to several regions along the Hindu Kush mountain range. The coordinates have been sent to your phone, Lt. Col.”

Rhodey slowly opened his eyes and then blinked a few times when his head didn’t protest the light. He then gingerly pushed himself to his feet and, when that still didn’t cause his head to ache, he dusted his hands on his pants, holding himself confidently once again. “Thanks, JARVIS. I’ll keep you two posted.” He moved towards the front door and then paused, turning to look at Pepper. “When I get back, I’d like an explanation for the…dragon. Please.”

Pepper nodded firmly. “You’ll get one, James. Once we’ve got things figured out.”

Rhodey hesitated and then agreed, a Tony-inspired smirk growing on his face. “I’ll bring you a present next time I see you,” he quipped and ducked out of the room with Pepper’s laughter trailing after him.

Once they were alone, Mm’aryn shifted so she could rest her head on Pepper’s shoulder. _–I like him.-_ She flicked her tail thoughtfully and felt a bit sad across the bond. _–I’m glad he was here for you when he disappeared.-_

 _Speaking of disappearances, can I get an explanation for yours?_ Pepper’s mental voice came out a lot softer than she’d meant for it to, but she didn’t bother trying to hide it. She’d _missed_ Mm’aryn _so very much_ these last few months and having her nearby was comforting. Even more since she’d lost Tony’s familiar presence.

Mm’aryn pulled back and debated whether to wiggle her way free of Pepper’s arms, but Pepper tightened her grip, so Mm’aryn ended up huddling into a ball. She made sure not to make eye contact as she explained herself. _–Dragons are possessive of what they think is theirs; you know this. I didn’t mind so much when Stark claimed you as one of his because I know humans sometimes make their own families. But when someone with a dragon-soul like_ that _begins an honest courting and_ ignores _all the signs declaring disinterest?-_ Mm’aryn tried to curl up tighter. _–Besides, it’s clear you don’t understand what a courting_ is _.-_

 _Then,_ explain _it to me. Don’t just run off and get frustrated when I don’t understand._ Pepper frowned down at the dragon in her arms as she sat back down on the couch. _I thought that was something we’d agreed on._

 _-I know. But how am I supposed to explain something so instinctual I don’t have the words for it?-_ Mm’aryn met Pepper’s eyes and the dragon’s gaze was conflicted.

Pepper rolled her eyes. _Then,_ show _me. You’re the one who’s used to using empathic-telepathic bonds to communicate. Why can’t you use it for this?_

Mm’aryn visibly weighed her decision, but she caved, just as Pepper knew she would. _–Alright, fine.-_ And then she barraged Pepper with feelings rooted deep, of possession and etiquette and _knowing_ that you can’t get mad at someone for being rude in a culture they didn’t even know _existed_. That proper draconic courting involved soul-twining and freely soul-binding because the ones involved were looking for life-mates. That constantly attempting to start one with an uninterested party was overstepping respectful boundaries and would normally be cause for vicious mauling and magically-enforced territory-exiling, but he was a _human_ , who _didn’t know what he was doing_. Except he kinda _did_ because that’s what a dragon-soul _was_ : a human with enough dragon in their soul that they instinctively _understood_ a good number of draconic etiquette. Yet, her soul-bound _liked_ him and would name him life-friend, were she more draconic, and may even begin accepting his overtures once he returned, based on her soul’s current state.

At that point, Mm’aryn pulled back, wiggled out of Pepper’s arms, and scrambled down to the ground, making a beeline for the open glass doors. Pepper was still reeling from all the new information she was now processing, but she knew enough to realize Mm’aryn was heading for the doors and she panicked. An attempt to push herself upright so she could give chase only led to Pepper slumping down to the ground, holding her head and groaning.

What the two had forgotten, though, was that they weren’t technically alone here. JARVIS, having been forgotten in Pepper’s subsequent demand for an explanation from Mm’aryn and wisely deciding to see what he could learn just by observation, quickly closed and locked the glass doors leading to the balcony, bringing Mm’aryn to a hasty stop before she barreled into the glass and broke it.

“Might I suggest _not_ fleeing from your emotional turmoil, Ms. Mm’aryn?” JARVIS suggested dryly. “I’m sure Ms. Potts does _not_ need the added stress in her life at present.”

Mm’aryn bared her teeth at the soul currently housed in the ceiling. _–I may not want to make things difficult for my soul-bound, but do_ not _force my tail, JARVIS, chosen-child of Stark. You_ will not _like what happens. Now,_ OPEN THIS DOOR! _-_

 _Mm’aryn!_ Her name was accompanied by scolding associations and a demand for an explanation and Mm’aryn bristled.

 _-I will_ not _be trapped on the whim of another, Virginia. I_ refuse _.-_

“Ms. Mm’aryn. If you promise not to leave the property lines unless it is with Ms. Potts’ agreement, I will allow you to access the balcony,” JARVIS interrupted, his voice firm. Pepper wondered whether JARVIS knew what he was asking of Mm’aryn and then she concluded that he probably did. She assumed he’d done some research while she’d been trying to have a conversation with her flighty dragon partner.

Mm’aryn, for her part, continued to bristle for another few moments, but when JARVIS only waited expectantly, she cautiously began to relax. _–Fine. My word I will not leave this property unless Virginia agrees.-_

JARVIS silently opened the balcony doors and Mm’aryn scampered outside with great relief, spreading out her wings to feel the wind catch her skin and breathing in the salty air. Inside, Pepper watched Mm’aryn enjoy being outside as she waited for her head to straighten itself out, feeling sad that such a promise was even necessary for Mm’aryn to stay. JARVIS’ wry voice broke her out of the beginnings of more heartache.

“So, Ms. Potts, may I ask for that explanation or must I accept a rain check as Rhodes has done?”

Pepper laughed weakly and pulled herself back onto the couch, dusting off the seat of her pants before settling in. “Will you keep the details to yourself unless Tony directly asks you for that information?”

“Ah, so it’s like that, is it?” JARVIS was silent for a moment. “Very well. I will endeavor to keep this information to myself unless Sir specifically requests details pertaining to this phenomenon.”

“Thanks, JARVIS.” Pepper sighed, curling back up onto the couch and watching Mm’aryn survey the view from the balcony. “What did you wanna know?”

 

* * *

 

Yinsen, Stark, and Fa’loraen all looked up at the door as one of the men made sure they knew they were getting a visit, before the doors opened and their captors walked in. Yinsen and Stark both put down what they were working on and raised their empty hands, while Fa’loraen slowly got to his feet. There were more people this time and they hung around the doors like bodyguards, something that made the three prisoners a bit uneasy. The bald man who entered next only increased that feeling, particularly the way he walked so confidently into the room.

“Relax,” he finally said, looking straight at Stark. That he spoke English at all meant he was someone high up in the hierarchy and Yinsen didn’t know whether to be worried or relieved. Off to the side, Fa’loraen slowly lowered himself into a crouch, teeth bared and wings poised to propel him at a moment’s notice; _he_ could tell that this man was angry about something, but not who or why he was. The man gave a good impression of being calm, though, so he wasn’t surprised his…he wasn’t surprised _Yinsen_ and Stark hadn’t picked up on it.

The man ambled over to Stark and reached for the arc reactor as Stark visibly repressed the urge to flinch or shove him away. The man eyed the arc reactor thoughtfully, before speaking.

“The bow and arrow once was the pinnacle of weapons technology.” The man met Stark’s gaze and then walked over to one of the work tables in the back of the room. Fa’loraen watched the bald man warily as he approached Fa’loraen’s resting place, though he didn’t need Yinsen’s cautioning glance to keep himself in check.

“It allowed the great Genghis Khan to rule from the Pacific to the Ukraine, an empire twice the size of Alexander the Great and four times the size of the Roman Empire.” The man only glanced at the table for a moment before he moved to another work table behind Stark. The higher-ranked stranger picked up some of the papers Stark had used to hide his armor plan as he continued his monologue, not noticing the way Stark glanced worriedly at Yinsen who only made a motion to hold    .

“But today, whoever holds the latest Stark weapons rules these lands. And soon, it’ll be my turn.” He replaced the plans and turned to give Stark a challenging look, as he began interrogating Yinsen.

His— _Yinsen_ tried to stay calm, but it was obvious that he was nervous. And with good reason. Even aside from trying to deflect the man’s suspicions, it was clear that the bald man held a lot of power in this room and Yinsen had lost most of his confidence when he’d gotten dragged into these caves. Fa’loraen began circling around towards hi—Yinsen’s position, silently and invisibly. The dragon might not be able to do much, but he wasn’t going to just sit and watch as they did…whatever they were going to do to Yinsen.

As Yinsen and the bald man talked some more, Stark clearly didn’t manage to pick up any of it and his eyes darted nervously from the speakers to the men standing watch at the exit. Yinsen tried to reassure the bald man, tried to tell him that they were working on what he wanted, but he obviously didn’t believe him.

The bald man had two of his people grab Yinsen and Yinsen almost tried to yank free. A moment later, Yinsen had been forced to his knees and Fa’loraen snarled silently at Yinsen’s captors. Stark turned slightly away, using his body to hide the clenched fist that formed at Yinsen’s treatment.

The powerful stranger searched for something in the forge fire, saying something that had Yinsen’s voice wavering and quiet. As he turned around with a burning ember held in the tongs, Stark began trying to intervene.

“What does he want?”

Stark was ignored as the bald man physically turned Yinsen’s head and the two men pushed him onto the anvil. Fa’loraen stalked forward, carefully leaping up to where Yinsen’s head rested on the anvil’s surface, and Tony was momentarily distracted from Yinsen’s worsening situation. Was that a flash of earth on the anvil?

The bald man said something and Yinsen’s answer indicated that the man’d asked what they were building, but Yinsen’s insistence that he and Stark were building the requested Jericho missile only seemed to anger the man. Fa’loraen bristled as the ember approached and prepared to leap on the man’s hand to knock the danger away, but it was stopped by Stark _making_ himself something that couldn’t be ignored.

“What do you want, a delivery date? I can—” The reckless, scruffy, _genius_ man took two steps forward, attracting the attention of the watching bodyguards who yelled at him to stop and pointed their guns at him. _Stark_ only raised a hand to ward them off and gave them a calculating glare for their troubles, as the bald man stopped moving the ember to take stock of the current situation.

Stark kept his eyes on Yinsen as he told the bald man, “I need him.” His head waved back and forth. “Good assistant.”

The bald man weighed Stark’s words for a long, tense moment and then dropped the ember onto the anvil. Yinsen let his relief flood the bond, probably by accident, and Fa’loraen slowly stopped bristling.

“You have til tomorrow, to assemble my missile.” The bald man gave his ultimatum, tossed the tongs he’d used to threaten Yinsen, and kept Stark’s gaze as he walked past. Fa’loraen didn’t relax until the door closed and the only people in the room were Yinsen and Stark again, both of whom were panicking a little and hurriedly getting back to work. With such a tight deadline, the two would have to work hard and fast to finish up the last things they’d need for Stark’s armor and Fa’loraen slunk to an out-of-the-way area to watch. He would enjoy these last few hours with Yinsen and Stark as much as he was able before everything caught racing fire tomorrow.

He huffed. For such a short acquaintance, he would miss the man who was supposed to have been his soul-bond. Maybe he’d come back to this side in a few years to see how Stark was doing.

 _Why did you do that?_ Fa’loraen blinked in surprise at the fact Yinsen had actually initiated a conversation with him. Even more surprising, Yinsen sounded a bit…angry at him. _You almost revealed your existence in front of all those people and for what?_

Caught off guard, Fa’loraen answered honestly and immediately. _–You’re supposed to be mine and that means we’re supposed to protect each other. Just because I know you’re not planning on leaving these caves alive doesn’t mean I’ll stand by and let the other men hurt you more than they already have.-_

Yinsen was silent for several moments and his voice was just the slightest bit fond when he finally spoke. _You are a very_ determined _fellow, aren’t you?_

 _-…I suppose I am.-_ Fa’loraen had a wry note in his voice. After all, could you really call it determination when it was instinctual?

 _If I ask you to watch over Stark when I’m gone, will you?_ Yinsen sounded whimsical as he asked.

Fa’loraen tilted his head to the side and considered the question. _–I would. If it was for you, I would.-_ He stifled the urge to snicker sadly at Yinsen’s surprise. _–Even after all we talked about, I would if you wanted me to. Did you want me to?-_

Yinsen was quiet for another few minutes. Fa’loraen was just beginning to lose himself in watching the two men work when he caught Yinsen’s answer. _I’m sorry._

And under that, _I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted. I’m sorry I ended up hurting you. I’m sorry I only met you when I was already lost._

_…I think we could have been good friends had the circumstances been different._

Fa’loraen smiled to himself. _–What do you have to be sorry for?-_

_Would you keep an eye on Stark for me, friend?_

_-…you know I will.-_

_Thank you._

Fa’loraen hummed and made his way over to Yinsen, nimbly climbing up to rest across the man’s shoulders. Yinsen only twitched a little in surprise before adjusting to compensate for the added weight. Fa’loraen began a comforting here-rumble, the kind used to reassure hatchlings and dragonets.

_-…I’ll miss you, soul-bond.-_

 

* * *

 

The next few hours passed quickly and Fa’loraen was careful to only help in little spurts. Smudging out the details of Stark’s work, hiding certain bits and pieces from the camera, blurring out Stark and Yinsen’s conspicuous preparations as the deadline crept ever closer. Maybe someday, someone would ask him why he hadn’t done that from the start, hide all of Stark’s efforts to escape. He’d say he couldn’t because he didn’t have the ability. He’d say it was too tricky to give the captors what they wanted to see while hiding all of the details that proved Stark really wasn’t doing what he said he would. He’d say he couldn’t be sure what the captors would believe and what they’d get suspicious over.

They might say ‘you could’ve saved your soul-bond. You should’ve saved your soul-bond. What kind of person would let another walk to their death without even a protest?’ He’d tell them he hadn’t known. He’d tell them his soul-bond was tricky like that and sly, silver tongue and dragon-fire hidden behind a bank of clouds or in the depths of an ocean. He’d tell them he’d only known his soul-bond three months, so how was _he_ to know what he’d been thinking?

What he’d never say was that Yinsen was a dying ember when Stark showed up and Stark’s determination to get back at their captors brought Yinsen to a roaring, eating flame. He’d never tell them that while he could’ve saved Yinsen, all he’d have left would be the cooling ashes of a man with nothing for life-fire to catch. He’d never talk about how he’d still been bound to Yinsen when he died and just how _happy_ and _relieved_ the man had been when he’d gone, with friends by his side and family _finally_ within reach.

 

The three of them were anxious, twitchy, nervous as Yinsen began helping Stark suit up. Fa’loraen paced by the door, almost indifferent about his proximity to the door-mine, and Yinsen apparently couldn’t help glancing over at him constantly. Of course Stark noticed, but Yinsen managed to brush it off and postpone _that_ conversation until after they’d made their escape. Stark was only halfway finished with his armor when Fa’loraen hissed a warning to Yinsen and circled back to where the two men were, being careful not to get in Yisnen’s way.

They tried to hold off the two Hungarians, tried to distract them, but the two tried the door and the bomb went off, sending the two men down and cutting their escape prep time even more than it already had been. Fa’loraen bounded over to the doorway, holding himself still as he listened for approaching enemies, while Yinsen and Stark tried to finish the armor’s specifics as quickly as possible.

It still wasn’t quick enough. Yinsen grabbed one of the men’s guns, said something about buying more time, and ran down the tunnel, shooting up at the ceiling as he did so. Fa’loraen hovered uncertainly for a moment and then leaped after Yinsen. Stark had the armor; he could take care of himself until Yinsen did what he felt he had to do.

Man and dragon ran down the tunnels, announcing their presence with gunshots and yelling. The terrorists ran away from them, screaming as well, until Yinsen turned a corner and came face to face with a cavern full of loaded weapons. Both of them knew what this meant, just as they knew Fa’loraen could and would kill all the men if Yinsen had chosen to live, instead. Even now, right on the verge of Yinsen’s death, both of them knew just how hard Fa’loraen was holding himself back to respect Yinsen’s choice.

That many guns going off at the same time was a deafening sound and Fa’loraen was distantly thankful that many of the murderers only shot a few times. Incredibly, Yinsen was still alive, but both of them knew that it wouldn’t be for very long. Throwing caution and stealth and _everything_ aside, Fa’loraen dazedly stumbled his way over to where Yinsen had crumpled and then been thrown to the side, not even noticing the high-pitched keening sound his throat was making as he did so. He clumsily clambered up to Yinsen’s head, curling around his shoulder and resting his head on the weakly-fluttering pulse point for what little reassurance it could give him. Fa’loraen blinked rapidly and uselessly because dragons didn’t cry—c _ouldn’t_ cry—and he continued keening, loud and long and heart-breakingly grieved, despite knowing that this would be coming.

What he didn’t and couldn’t know was that back in the room they’d spent three months in, Stark had just finished everything he needed to kill his way out of these mountains. He’d finished it all and could hear Fa’loraen’s keening and his genius mind didn’t take long to link the sound of grief to something going horribly wrong. He wasn’t _just_ viciously vindictive when he threw around the men he came across on his way out; he’d been on the verge of panicking and terrified that he’d fucked up again. That this time, Yinsen, who had a family waiting for him, who was intelligent and steady and calm and, and he _owed_ him, _goddammit_ , and Tony would get him out of here if it was the last thing he did. Yinsen wasn’t allowed to pay for Tony’s mistakes. He _wasn’t_.

Tony turned the last corner and the sight of Yinsen lying on a pile of sacks, _bleeding_ , shoved him straight into a full-out, tunnel-visioned, _angry_ panic.

“Yinsen!”

“Watch out,” Yinsen managed to croak out and Tony’s genius brain that was sometimes (often) too much for him to deal with put together the pieces fast enough to not get him splattered all over the cave. In return, he shot his own propelled explosive at the man and hoped he _died_ , before he went to check Yinsen over.

“Stark,” he panted, after Tony got rid of the sack lying on his stomach.

Tony lifted his faceplate. “C’mon. We gotta go. Move for me. C’mon, we got a plan; we’re gonna stick to it.”

“This was always the plan, Stark,” Yinsen breathed out.

Tony huffed out a breath. “C’mon, man. You’re gonna go see your family. Get up.”

“My family is dead. I’m going to see them now, Stark.” Fa’loraen whimpered at that, having cut off his keening when Stark had finally appeared. Yinsen’s voice was thready now, but Tony _reeled_ at the new information. All this time, Yinsen…what was he even _doing_? How could Yinsen just, just dump this on him right before they were both home free? This man, this man who was so much better than Tony could _ever_ be…in _what world_ , did he _deserve_ what had happened to him? In _what world_ , was it _right_ that Yinsen would die while Tony got to live?

This man, who was _still_ trying to reassure him, even as he lay dying. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I want this. I want this.” _Reassurance. I want this._

_-I know. I know.-_

Fa’loraen pressed a bit closer, straining to catch every one of those faint butterfly beats before there weren’t any anymore and sharing what little support he could so Yinsen wouldn’t have to be alone before his family came to pick him up. Tony huffed out a breath, two, the corner of his mouth curving upward as he marveled at this man who’d saved him, and stubbornly ignored the faint burning in his eyes.

“Thank you for saving me,” he said, quiet and sincere and honest, suddenly _needing_ to let Yinsen know just how grateful he was.

Yinsen’s mouth curved up the slightest bit as he huffed out another few sentences. “Don’t waste it. Don’t waste your life, Stark,” he managed before he swallowed, panted for a bit, and then fell still. Tony and Fa’loraen gave Yinsen a moment of respectful silence, as was his due, and then Stark turned towards the exit. Fa’loraen shoved his snout into Yinsen’s neck, taking one last breath to try to memorize his soul-bond’s scent, and then pushed away to leap after Stark. He’d promised Yinsen he’d look after the man he’d saved and dragons didn’t go back on their word.

 

* * *

 

Fa’loraen didn’t spare much thought to marvel at Stark’s creation as it weathered the barrage of bullets the terrorists aimed at him. Instead, he tunneled into the rock, rapidly digging down and then forward to bring him within reach of the terrorists. There was a slow increase of heat from above as Stark unleashed his flamethrowers and Fa’loraen dug his way out, leaping at the closest terrorist on fire and bringing him down with a few swipes of his claws. Stark continued swinging his streams of fire from side to side, clearly trying to catch the entire cache of weapons on fire, but he was soon distracted as the terrorists regrouped and fired on him once again. Amidst the sound of bullets hitting metal, guns discharging, fire crackling, and the first overheated weapons exploding, none of the humans noticed the kitten-sized, earth-colored creature leaping on the terrorists, bringing them down in a spray of blood and muffled screams before moving on to the next one.

This, of course, meant he completely missed his opportunity to hitch a ride with Stark when the armor went blasting off into the sky like a rocket. He barely had a moment to watch and stew about how he’d catch up before he had to dive underground to keep himself from getting blown to pieces as things started exploding. At least he’d managed to mark the general direction Stark had been heading towards before he’d had to duck and cover. If he lost track of Stark this early into his promise, he might as well just jump back over the divide and find a Watching Pool to wither away beside for all the good he’d do.

It took him a while to find Stark’s landing place, because the armor-rocket reached a pretty good distance for something he’d cobbled together in a cave in two-ish months, but, of course, Stark wasn’t there anymore. From the mess of parts and the fading footsteps, it looked like Stark had pulled himself out of the shattered armor, picked a direction, and started walking. Fa’loraen shook his head and huffed. He really should’ve expected something like that.

A short walk to the top of the nearest dune and a few strong flaps of his wings later, Fa’loraen was circling upwards and scanning the nearby dunes for a moving smudge. He didn’t think Stark could’ve gotten very far while he’d been searching for him, but this was Stark; he’d managed to build an armor-rocket and an arc reactor thing in three months with pieces of scrap. Who knew what he’d manage now?

Thankfully, he really hadn’t managed to get all that far, thanks to the midday sun and the sandy dunes. Fa’loraen shifted his wings and slipped over to him, shedding height so he could land nearby and keep an eye on the man. He threw an edge-blurring mirage and a light-deflecting cover over Stark and then just hopped along behind him, keeping his ears open for anything that could possibly hurt Stark.

Hours passed and Stark didn’t come across any dangers Fa’loraen could help with. Just sand and heat and exhaustion, all of which he couldn’t really do anything about. He was beginning to respect Stark’s ridiculous drive to continue on, though, because moving constantly with no water and no shelter for as long as Stark had was something not many would have done. He supposed you could claim desperation, but that didn’t look to be what was driving Stark. If asked, Fa’loraen would’ve said he’d kept on moving on pure determination and willpower alone. And, after three months in the hands of terrorists, the loss of a good friend, and some attempted drowning, it was somewhat amazing that Stark hadn’t broken yet.

They were cresting another dune when Fa’loraen heard something that wasn’t Stark. There was a rhythmic, regular beating in the air and two helicopters coming right at their sand dune. Fa’loraen watched them pass over suspiciously, sparking in the back of his throat until he saw Stark waving and yelling at them, relieved and happy and tension falling from his shoulders and back like water.

As they circled back to land, Stark waved at them and then fell to his knees, throwing his hands up with two fingers outstretched and laughing in relief. Fa’loraen slinked down to Stark’s side and watched the five soldiers rush forward, the one in the middle bright with Stark’s colors on his soul and his colors on Stark’s soul brightening at his proximity. A good friend, then. Possibly a life-friend. Maybe even a soul-mate, judging by the amount of color each had on the other. And they were both colored by the same dragon-bond-human.

Fa’loraen hunched in on himself as the newcomer slowed down right in front of Stark. He was _not_ looking forward to asking for permission to stay because from what he could see? The other dragon was probably a female and females were the most territorial of all. With good reason, of course, but _no one_ wanted to get between a female human-friend and her humans, _especially_ once they’d learned just how fragile humans were. He didn’t know whether this one knew, but he’d have to step lightly all the same.

“How was the fun-vee?” the stranger with Stark’s colors quipped, relief and happiness and oh-my- _god_ -you’re- _alive_ in his voice.

Stark…had apparently exhausted all his words over the course of the day and only managed to close his eyes and grin, huffing out a laugh at the question. Stark’s friend rested a hand on his shoulder and knelt down to look him in the face. “Next time, you ride with me, okay?”

He pulled Stark into a half-hug and looked halfway to crying in joy, so Fa’loraen circled out a bit to give the two some privacy, barely disturbing the sand as he passed. When he looked back, he met the dark eyes of Stark’s friend examining him suspiciously and Fa’loraen stilled in shock. Stark’s friend could see _dragons_?

 

* * *

 

James Rhodes was putting down these last three months as some of the most stressful times of his life and he _highly_ doubted anyone would blame him for it. Not only did his weapons-developer of a best friend go missing in the desert in a mess of blood, fire, and dead bodies, he’d found out that one of his other good friends had been keeping the existence of a…dragon…creature… _thing_ secret for…probably the entire time he’d known her. Somehow, it’d known where he might possibly find Tony—which he _did_ appreciate, don’t get him wrong—but had he _really_ had to put off the explanation until after he brought Tony home? Because, somehow, on _top_ of everything that had happened and didn’t make sense, his best friend had apparently managed to get one of those dragon-things to follow him home.

Not that he seemed to realize he’d done that and James was _pretty_ sure he’d know if Tony was aware of that, mainly because Tony would probably be running his mouth off at the thing, instead of running his mouth off at James, the doctors, the officers trying to get his debriefing statement, and pretty much everyone else who tried to get close. Because Tony’d apparently had an _electromagnet_ embedded into his chest, which he’d built a _miniaturized arc reactor_ to power, and he was refusing to let the local bomb disposal squads close to make sure it wouldn’t go off spontaneously. James had eventually managed to straighten that out, once he’d gotten Tony calm enough to explain _why_ he had a glowing metal contraption in his chest, but that didn’t really do much for James’ peace of mind.

Nor did the results from the negotiated medical examination or the report they managed to get Tony to toss at them. In fact, James just really wanted to get Tony back to Malibu, where Pepper, JARVIS, and his bots could watch over him for a while, so James could go and figure out who _else_ he could beat the shit out of for losing sight of Tony like that. Suffice to say, he was already beating himself up about it, despite the slightly-concerned looks Tony was occasionally shooting him.

And that was another thing. Tony was…different now. Granted, James _knew_ what he’d gone through would change him, but this was almost unsettling. Because this was _Tony_ _Stark_ , asshole genius extraordinaire, who’d barely let himself _think_ about his parents’ deaths and went through life with the impression that nothing could touch him. And, maybe, James had let himself get a little caught up in that, if the visible inklings of concern caught him so off-guard.

Well, visible to _him_ anyway.

James sighed as he leaned back in one of those uncomfortable hospital visitor’s chairs, keeping a tired eye on Tony and the door to his room. Tony’d pretty much driven everyone else out of his room as fast as he possibly could, but James, he wanted close. Tony was being…almost alarmingly clingy, actually, now that everything was done and they were working out the details to bring him back to U.S. soil. James wasn’t at all surprised that Tony hadn’t mentioned everything that’d happened to him, but he was getting a bit worried that Tony wouldn’t even tell _him_ what it was. Hopefully, Pepper or JARVIS could get it out of him before it got really bad.

In the meantime, James cast a wary eye over the dragon-thing that’d been following Tony since he’d been picked up in the desert. It wasn’t anywhere near the size of Pepper’s and earth-brown to Pepper’s ocean-blue, but it was stealthier and quieter than Pepper’s probably was. The silver eyes on this one appeared older, despite its size, and the cautious, wary way it watched everyone pointed to more life experience. James kinda wondered what he’d done that caused the dragon-thing to watch him carefully even when it was just him, Tony, and it.

Well, Pepper _did_ say she owed him an explanation, but she never said he couldn’t try to ask for one before that.

“So,” James said softly, crossing his arms and giving the dragon-thing a considering look. “I know Pepper said something about dragons, but I’d like to hear you explain what and who you are.”

The dragon-thing tilted its head at him from one of the other visitor’s chairs and blinked. _–Pepper?-_ It hummed thoughtfully. _–This Pepper wouldn’t happen to have a dragon hanging around, would they?-_

James narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. ”You know, why don’t you answer my questions first? _Then_ I’ll get around to yours.”

It blinked lazily and its lip lifted in the slightest baring of teeth. _–No need to get territorial, sky-child dragon-soul. I just needed to know who the human-friend’s soul-bond was, so I could ask permission to infringe.-_ Its wings rustled and it smiled with all of its teeth. _–As it is, thank you for clarifying that. I am Fa’loraen and I’m what you people call a dragon.-_

“Uh-huh.” James leaned back and made sure to sound skeptical. ”You got any wings then, dragon? Or am I just gonna have to take your word on it?”

Silver eyes narrowed at him before the dragon was suddenly quite a bit bigger, wings outstretched and challenging look in his eyes. _–Should I assume that’s enough proof or do I have to show you more?-_

James twitched at the reminder and then sighed. “No, that’s good. Does that mean you and Tony…?” He motioned between the dragon and the man sleeping in front of them, indicating the connection or whatever that Pepper had with the other dragon.

Pain passed through the dragon’s eyes and he shook his head. _–I’m just keeping an eye on him for someone. He wanted me to make sure the man he’d saved would be alright without him.-_

James…didn’t know what to say to that. Yeah, it confirmed the fact that Tony’d been hiding something from everyone, but that the man wasn’t here with Tony meant there would probably be a lot of survivor’s guilt going around Tony’s head for a while. James knew it would’ve for him and he wasn’t Tony, who took all of his emotions and turned them up to fifteen.

James grimaced and decided to change the subject. Things were still a bit…too fresh for everyone and a couple more days to calm down couldn’t hurt. “Right. So. Anyway, what did those words mean, the ones you used earlier? You called me a sky-child dragon-soul? Or something?”

Fa’loraen, and James figured he should probably use the guy’s name since it looked like he’d be around for a while, visibly relaxed when James didn’t push. _–Sky-child means you’re someone who’s got clearly got sky in their soul. I mean, no one actually_ has _sky in their soul, but it’s the look that we think souls would have if the sky’d had mortal children. And dragon-soul, well, that’s kinda self-explanatory, right? You’ve got a soul like a dragon’s.-_

He shrugged when all he got from James was a stare. It took James a moment to find his voice, but his question still sounded a bit odd to his own ears. “Why…does it sound like you’re _sure_ souls exist? And should I be worried about the dragon soul thing?”

Fa’loraen gave him a weird look. _–Um, that’s because I can_ see _them? And they tend to be very colorful? Unless you’re talking about the other kind of soul, in which case, that wasn’t what I was talking about, exactly? But, dragon-soul just means dragon-_ like _soul or_ draconic _soul; not that you actually_ have _a dragon soul. Besides, lots of humans have them.-_

James had _not_ signed up for this. Not when he enlisted in the Air Force, not when he’d become friends with Tony, not even when he ended up being the Stark Industries military liaison because Tony ran everyone else off. He was talking to a _dragon_ about _souls_.

James dropped his head into his hands and just…sat there.

_-Um…are you alright?-_

“I think…I’m just gonna ask Pepper for that explanation,” James decided.

Fa’loraen’s voice was sheepish. _–Probably a better idea, yeah.-_

Tony twitched as the room fell into silence and only relaxed when James grabbed his hand without comment. Now, James had to figure out when he and Pepper both had some free time, so he could get Pepper to explain this dragon shit to him.

 

* * *

 

Pepper, Happy, and Mm’aryn were waiting on the tarmac as the C-17 Globemaster finally opened its cargo hold, anxiously waiting to see how Tony’d held up for the last three months. As the ramp was lowered and Tony and Rhodey became visible, they watched Tony push himself out of the wheelchair with help from Rhodey and if that didn’t tell them what his last three months were like, the unsteady way he walked down the ramp drove home the point. That he hadn’t pushed Rhodey away even with the number of strangers hanging around was additionally worrying.

What caught Mm’aryn’s attention, though, were the new colors in Stark’s soul and the smaller dragon with the same colors trotting beside the two men. While Pepper and Stark had their version of a courting-couple’s reunion, Mm’aryn watched the way the new colors glowed in their intensity, burning like embers in Stark’s soul, despite not being anywhere near the person who’d put them there. The other dragon politely stayed distant enough that she didn’t feel threatened by him, as she did so.

Obviously, that changed when Pepper, Stark, and Hogan got into the car. Mm’aryn and the new dragon were forced to hurry into the empty front passenger seat, so they wouldn’t end up on top of Pepper or the dragon-blind males, but that put them in close proximity and Mm’aryn…wasn’t very happy about that. As the three humans figured out what to do and the car began moving, Mm’aryn braced herself on the front passenger seat and stared down the other dragon, who was sitting below her and directing his gaze at her claws.

They held their silence for several minutes, waiting each other out, but they both knew the proper etiquette. The unknown male finally broke the silence.

_-I am Fa’loraen. My soul-bond was a man called Yinsen. Before he died, he asked me to watch over the man he’d saved, who is known as Tony Stark. I would like permission to do that.-_

He then raised his eyes to meet hers and she couldn’t help instinctively bristling. Still, she held herself in check and managed to give an even-toned reply.

 _-I am Mm’aryn. My soul-bond is the woman called Virginia, who is also known as Pepper. Tony Stark is one of_ mine _, Fa’loraen.-_ She eyed him suspiciously for a moment. _–But I will give you permission to watch over him.-_

With the formality done with, both dragons broke eye contact and carefully relaxed a bit until they could at least sit comfortably in the moving vehicle, though they remained where they were. They both knew Mm’aryn wouldn’t appreciate Fa’loraen getting any closer to her soul-bond just yet.

 _-Stark has very small group of named, in case you weren’t aware.-_ She informed Fa’loraen. _–The dark-skinned sky-child you approached with, this large guard-guide, my soul-bond, an older mentor who smells of bitterness and ashes, and the metal children he’s brought to life.-_

Fa’loraen nodded slowly and leaped up onto the dashboard to peer at Stark with soul-sight, while Mm’aryn kept an eye on him. Pepper tried to motion for Fa’loraen to get down, but he ignored her for a moment. Stark looked to be staring into the middle distance anyway and neither he nor the guard-guide had dragon-sight, so a moment’s observation was fine. Satisfied with and a little troubled by his examination, Fa’loraen slid back down to the car’s floor and no one spotted Tony’s gaze tracking his fall for a split-second.

 _-The color covering his soul like ivy…that’s not the mentor, is it?-_ Fa’loraen asked, troubled.

 _-It is.-_ Mm’aryn’s voice was dry, which prompted Fa’loraen to glance at her before shifting his gaze away again.

_-We’re not to worry about it?-_

_-No.-_

_-Oh. Alright.-_ He circled in place restlessly as the car slowed and then stopped for a moment before continuing on. _–The sky-child has dragon-sight, you know.-_

 _-I know.-_ Mm’aryn sighed. _–He and the metal one called JARVIS have it, though only recently and mostly due to my actions.-_

_-Should I hide then?-_

Mm’aryn hummed thoughtfully. _–It’s not necessary, I think, but if you’d prefer to, then by all means.-_ She shrugged.

Fa’loraen let several moments pass in silence, before tentatively speaking up again. _–Have you known your soul-bond long?-_

 _-Long enough.-_ Mm’aryn’s voice was frosty and she stared him down with narrowed eyes, tail flicking and wings beginning to rise. Fa’loraen immediately shut his mouth and looked away, ducking down to make himself look smaller than he already was.

The rest of the ride was silent between them.

 

* * *

 

They rolled up to the main Stark Industries office building, where many of the department heads and board members lined the sidewalk to celebrate Tony’s return. Obadiah, of course, was the only one to give Tony a hug the moment he got out of the car and the two men hurried into the conference room with Pepper trailing behind them. Pepper stopped at the edge of the crowd and sighed with a faint smile playing about her lips, watching as Tony and Obadiah made their way through the crowd of reporters.

_It’s good to have him back._

She was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts by a polite “Ms. Potts” from her left side, as Mm’aryn curled around her legs and looked up at the stranger curiously.

“Yes?” It was a man with a receding hairline and an amiable countenance, who would’ve been entirely forgettable if Mm’aryn hadn’t deliberately controlled her reaction to whatever she’d seen in him.

_-You should pay attention to this one. He’s…unsettling.-_

_…that doesn’t sound good…_

“Could I speak to you for a moment?”

Mm’aryn curled her lip and pulled back, eyeing the man warily. _-His colors are faded and compartmentalized. That’s…not right.-_

“I’m, I’m not part of the press conference, but it’s about to begin right now.” She motioned towards the stage and turned back to watch it herself, uneasy with what Mm’aryn had revealed about the man.

 _He’s not_ dangerous _or anything, though, right?_

“I’m not a reporter. I’m Agent Phil Coulson with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.”

_-…I don’t think so…-_

Pepper couldn’t help looking at him as he rattled off his organization’s name. “That’s quite a mouthful.”

He held out a business card. “I know. We’re working on it.”

She took the card and barely glanced at it, before tucking it away in her portfolio. “You know, we’ve, we’ve been approached already by the DOD, the FBI, the CIA, I—”

He cut her off. “We’re a separate division, with a more specific focus. We need to debrief Mr. Stark about the circumstances of his escape.”

“I’ll put something in the books, shall I?”

“Thank you.” The agent finally moved away and Obadiah opened the press conference with a simple “Let’s get started,” before finding himself at a loss of words.

Tony obviously filled in the silence. “Hey. Would it be alright if everyone sat down?” He pulled out the cheeseburger, held it in his broken arm, and then motioned for the reporters to sit. “Why don’t you just sit down? That way, you can see me, and I can, little less formal than…” He took a bite of his cheeseburger as the reporters actually sat down and even Obadiah took a seat close to Tony.

“What’s up with the love-in?” Rhodey asked quietly as he arrived, crouching down next to Pepper and Mm’aryn with his eyes on the stage.

“Don’t look at me. _I_ don’t know what he’s up to,” Pepper replied, just as quietly, not quite daring to take her eyes off the stage. Mm’aryn clambered up to drape herself across Pepper’s shoulders as Tony began speaking again.

Tony looked at Obadiah and muttered something.

Obadiah reached out and grabbed Tony’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

“I never got to say goodbye to Dad.” Tony tried to gesture with his broken arm and turned to face the reporters. “I never got to say goodbye to my father.” Obadiah dropped his arm.

Tony set aside his half-eaten cheeseburger and looked out over his audience. “There’s questions I would ask him. I would ask him how he felt about what this company did.” A pause as Tony seemed to gather his thoughts. “If he was conflicted. If he ever had doubts. Or maybe he was every inch the man we remember from the newsreels.

“I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them. And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability.”

Several of the reporters in the front row tried to catch Tony’s attention and he called one of their names.

“What happened over there?” the reporter asked, sounding young and solemn.

“Uh, I, I had my eyes opened,” Tony said, pushing himself to his feet and throwing his voice over the crowd. “I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up. And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark Industries.”

That brought the reporters to their feet, as Obadiah immediately tried to herd Tony away from the podium. Pepper gaped because they’d been sitting in the same car for the entire ride here and he couldn’t _warn_ her that he was about to do something this, this _outrageous_? She would’ve liked _some_ kind of a heads-up, _thank you very much_.

 _-You would’ve tried to stop him.-_ Mm’aryn pointed out and Pepper pushed that to the side for now because _yes_ , she _knew_ that, but _shutting down_ the department they’d created a reputation around? The department the company was _known_ for? Did he have _any_ idea what kind of a mess he just _dropped into her lap_?

“Until such a time, as I can decide what the future of this company will be, what direction it should take, one that I’m comfortable with, and is consistent with the highest good for this country, as well.”

Beside them, Rhodey’s shoulders slumped and he looked down, chewing on his lip as he wondered just how badly his superiors were going to take this announcement. He couldn’t really blame Tony for his decision, especially if the weapons were being used against Americans because he _knew_ what Tony was like about stuff that was his, but Rhodey also knew this wasn’t going to go over well with _anyone_.

“What we should take away from this, is that Tony’s back, and, uh, he’s healthier than ever, and we’ll have a little…internal discussion and we’ll get back to you on the fallout.”

Obadiah tried to salvage the press conference, but it was clear that Tony’s announcement was all anyone was planning on talking about. As Tony passed by Pepper, Mm’aryn, and Rhodey, the three of them turned to follow him out of the room. Fa’loraen faded into view on Tony’s shoulder and blinked a little incredulously at the three walking alongside him.

 _-Does he_ intentionally _cause_ _chaos or does it just follow him around like a Blood-hunter?-_

Pepper and Rhodey had to resist the urge to roll their eyes and bark a laugh, respectively, while Mm’aryn just snorted. _–Oh, it’s_ definitely _six of one and a half dozen of the other. The Stream Watcher even made sure to mention it to me when I was first deciding whether to cross the divide or find a Watching Pool to sit beside, since Virginia’s supposed to get caught up in it and they didn’t want me making an uninformed decision.-_

Fa’loraen groaned and appeared to slump on his perch, muttering sardonically to himself. _–Great. This is fantastic. I give up one messed-up human and immediately end up with another._ How _is this my life?-_

At the same time, Pepper almost flinched at the reminder and her mental voice sounded dismayed. _Wait, you mean that time you talked about is_ now _?_

She could feel Mm’aryn giving her a look. _–Yes? It’s been about a decade since I first brought it up…-_

Rhodey shot Pepper an almost accusing look, as though asking why she hadn’t thought to inform him of that detail. All he got was an apologetic glance and a minute shrug before they were outside the building.

Tony’d clearly missed the byplay, but Pepper, Mm’aryn, and Rhodey went one way, while Tony and Fa’loraen got back into the Rolls-Royce with Happy by silent mutual agreement between everyone who wasn’t Tony. Besides, Pepper and Rhodey had to start damage control as soon as possible, so they could hopefully keep everything from crashing and burning before Tony figured out what it was he wanted to focus on now.

And, before even that, he had to heal and work through all the shit he’d picked up while he was gone for three months.

Yeah. Right.

 

* * *

 

Immediately upon entering the large, precariously-perched building, Stark stripped himself out of his suit and went straight down the stairs, absently greeting the voice in the walls with genuine warmth in his voice. Pepper sighed and picked up after him, pausing to give the two dragons longsuffering looks when Mm’aryn tackled Fa’loraen to keep him from following Stark into the basement. She quickly left them to their business, though, since she was still technically on the clock and had _plenty_ to do after the earlier press conference.

Fa’loraen remained on his back and warily watched Mm’aryn until her growling had subsided. He waited for her to move away before he rolled to his feet and shook out his wings, glancing upwards at the soul-glow infused into the ceiling.

“Welcome back, Ms. Mm’aryn,” JARVIS said, keeping his voice low. “I see you’ve brought a colleague?”

 _-Just Mm’aryn, JARVIS.-_ She flicked her tail carelessly before motioning for Fa’loraen to follow her. _–And I…_ guess _you can call him that. This is Fa’loraen and he’s keeping an eye on Stark for someone.-_

JARVIS’ presence became alarmed and Fa’loraen hastened to clarify. _–My soul-bond asked me to keep an eye on the man he’d saved. That’s all. I don’t plan on hurting him or anything.-_

There was a careful, thoughtful silence. “Your…soul-bond can’t do this themselves?”

Fa’loraen gave the ceiling a wry, pained smile. _–No.-_

“…I see.” JARVIS gave the impression of gathering himself. “Will you be staying here and following Sir around then?”

 _-Most likely.-_ Fa’loraen leaped up to the fireplace hearth and settled down on the side that wasn’t occupied by Mm’aryn. _–I doubt he’ll be able to see me anytime soon, so you can probably just think of me as his shadow.-_

Mm’aryn snorted at the reference, but didn’t bother to elaborate. Instead, she stretched and then sprawled out on her side of the fireplace. _–In case it wasn’t clear, Fa’loraen, this is one of Stark’s chosen-and-built-children, who goes by the acronym JARVIS. JARVIS, the human-friend dragon Stark picked up during his captivity.-_

 _-It’s nice to meet you.-_ Fa’loraen dipped his head in the general direction of the ceiling.

“It’s nice to meet you, as well, Fa’loraen. Now, is there anything I can help you two with?”

Both dragons shook their heads and made themselves comfortable on the hearth.

“In that case, I will turn my attention to Sir. Do not hesitate to call for me, if you have need of anything.”

JARVIS’ presence seemed to disappear after that, interestingly enough, though his soul-glow remained in the ceiling.

 _-He doesn’t_ sound _like a child.-_ Fa’loraen observed tentatively.

Mm’aryn rolled her eyes. _–_ Built _-child. They don’t have to fit the usual patterns.-_

 _-True.-_ Fa’loraen considered the ceiling. _–How old do you think he is?-_

_-Who knows? He was already around when Virginia and I first came to the house.-_

_-Did you never ask?-_

Mm’aryn shrugged. _–It wasn’t something we needed to know. And I get the impression that it isn’t something Stark wants spread around, you know?-_

Fa’loraen hummed in agreement.

 

* * *

 

Mm’aryn had been reluctant to leave Fa’loraen when Pepper finally finished what work she could that day, but she eventually went, trailing warnings and threats as she headed for the door. Not that she really needed to bother. Stark ended up spending the entire night in the basement, working on something important, or so JARVIS said. Even if he hadn’t been, Fa’loraen didn’t exactly have access down there and he doubted JARVIS would let him in for anything short of an emergency when Stark didn’t even know he had a new houseguest. That wasn’t even taking into consideration the way the soul-glow clumped a bit between the walls and made odd-looking shapes that Fa’loraen only noticed because he’d been bored.

Pepper and Mm’aryn were back early the next morning, though, and Fa’loraen couldn’t help actually perking up at their entrance. It’d been a dull night and he hadn’t been able to find a comfortable sleep-den with JARVIS’ soul-glow infusing pretty much everything in the house. While Pepper set herself on a backless swivel-seat and prepared her workspace for the day, Mm’aryn stalked up to Fa’loraen’s spot on the couch and eyed him irritably.

Fa’loraen tilted his head to the side and glanced at the inconspicuous clock JARVIS had provided at his request. _–Are you always here early?-_

 _-Virginia usually is.-_ Mm’aryn said, sitting down on her haunches with her wings half-open and relaxed. _–I don’t normally come here, but it’s new times now.-_

 _-Oh.-_ Fa’loraen blinked and then looked closer at the other dragon. _–…you look tired.-_

Mm’aryn’s voice was dry. _–There was a stranger staying in the house of one of my soul-bond’s colored.-_

 _-But…I’m smaller than you.-_ Fa’loraen pointed out, a little confused.

Mm’aryn looked at him out of the corner of her eye. _-Doesn’t mean you can’t do just as much, if not_ more _, damage than me, if you wanted to.-_

Fa’loraen stilled at the implication and Mm’aryn turned to look him straight in the eye with the slightest glow of fire in her mouth. _–Isn’t that right, Wisp-shadow?-_

They stared each other down for a long, drawn-out moment, long enough that both Pepper and JARVIS noticed and began to worry.

_Mm’aryn?_

“Mm’aryn?” JARVIS echoed Pepper unknowingly. “Fa’loraen?”

There was another moment of tension as the two held each other’s gaze, before Fa’loraen looked away with an amused huff. _–You have some nerve, Sky-fire. Be glad we’re human-friend and not Clan dragons.-_

Mm’aryn relaxed all the way with a huff of her own and turned to Pepper and JARVIS. _–What?-_

Pepper raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “What was that, just now?”

 _-Nothing to worry about, Virginia.-_ Mm’aryn stretched her wings out and flapped them a bit, which prompted Fa’loraen to slap one with his own as it passed nearby. Mm’aryn jerked that wing back in and bared her teeth at him, the beginnings of a growl in her throat, only to get cut off by JARVIS.

”I would still like an explanation,” JARVIS said forcefully. “The two of you looked ready to come to blows and I prefer to be aware of possible offenses _before_ they become relevant. _Especially_ if I am to make informed decisions and to inform Sir of the situation at some future time.”

“There’s also the fact that we, as in the _humans_ in this relationship, don’t actually know what you can do or how strong you are,” Pepper added flatly. “I might have _ideas_ from the stories, but those were children’s stories. They’re never very clear on details.”

The two dragons exchanged looks before Mm’aryn grimaced and Fa’loraen sighed. As the human-friend with a soul-bond who was doing the asking, Mm’aryn was obligated to do the explaining, so she did, pulling her wings back in and straightening up to indicate the seriousness of the information.

 _-So, you two know that me and Fa’loraen over there are both human-friend, right? That’s pretty much the only reason we’re even on this side of the divide at our ages. Obviously, not every dragon is human-friend, otherwise you’d have soul-bonds everywhere and that just isn’t the way things are.-_ Mm’aryn shifted a bit. _–The thing is, there are also these things called Clans over there, which would probably be the equivalent of human races or something.-_

Fa’loraen frowned and shook his head. _–Dogs are probably the better example here.-_

Mm’aryn hummed. _–Okay, yeah. Dog breeds. Dragon Clans are kinda like the breeds of dogs you guys have, so you can kinda easily look at a dragon and tell which Clan they’re from. And each of the Clans is good at different things, the same way dogs are. Only, you know what happens when you have visually-identifiable groups of people, right? You get stereotypes and people clustering together and insiders and outsiders and all that stuff.-_

She motioned between herself and Fa’loraen. _–_ That _was us ascertaining whether we were human-friend first or Clan first. That’s all.-_

Pepper thought over what she was just told and shook her head. “Okay. I’m pretty sure I understand what Clans are and why they might make you uneasy around each other, but that stand-off just now was a bit more charged than just two individuals with stereotypes figuring out where the other stood.”

 _-It’s a bit more…involved than it sounds.-_ Fa’loraen tried to clarify. _–Maybe think of the Clans as more family-based, if that helps? In both blood and actions?-_

 _-You could also try likening them to mafia groups.-_ Mm’aryn added wryly, as comprehension dawned in Pepper’s eyes.

“Ah,” JARVIS said. “Then, it would be like meeting another person with the name at a restaurant, but being unsure whether they are there as a member of the mafia or as a diner.”

Fa’loraen nodded in relief. _–Yes! Exactly.-_

“I’m assuming you both are diners, in this case.” Pepper looked from one dragon to the other and they both nodded. “Well, then, I’m glad to hear that. If you two would be so kind as to not start anything else today, that would be much appreciated,” she said steadily, but the smile that hovered on her lips softened the reprimand.

Mm’aryn scoffed and hopped off the couch in response, gesturing for Fa’loraen to follow. _–In that case, I suppose we’ll be outside then, so that we won’t bother you. I need to see how well this Wisp-shadow can fly anyway.-_

 _-Oh, I’m almost certain you can out-fly me, Sky-fire.-_ Fa’loraen retorted playfully, bounding up to walk beside the other dragon. _–But the_ real _question is can you fly as quietly as_ I _can?-_

Pepper waited until the two dragons had leapt off the balcony railing before making her request. ”JARVIS, see if you can catch their competition and send me a copy of it.”

“Of course, Ms. Potts,” he quietly replied. “It will be interesting to see whether their stereotypes have any basis in fact and I’m sure their competition will be entertaining to watch.”

 

* * *

 

Mm’aryn pulled back and began to circle back as the first spike of disgust echoed down the bond. Fa’loraen climbed to match her altitude and glanced at her.

_-Is something wrong?-_

Mm’aryn frowned. _–I’m not sure. There’s definitely_ something _going on, though, because disgust is not a typical emotion.-_

 _-Disgust?-_ Fa’loraen looked bewildered. _–What’s there to be disgusted about in Stark’s house?-_

 _-You think_ I _know?-_ Mm’aryn replied, landing on the balcony at a run and hurrying inside as panic began filtering through. _–JARVIS! What’s happening?-_

“I believe Sir is having Ms. Potts replace his current arc reactor with an upgraded model,” JARVIS relayed dryly. “The problem is Sir failed to adequately describe the steps required before beginning the process and is in the middle of cardiac arrest at present.”

 _-Cardiac arrest?-_ Fa’loraen asked, following after Mm’aryn as she leaped down the entire flight of stairs in one hop.

 _-Heart attack.-_ Mm’aryn said shortly, craning to see how things were doing past the glass walls. _–Human hearts can sometimes have problems, which makes them not beat right.-_

 _-You mean he could_ die _?-_ Fa’loraen was now very alarmed, but it was a bit of a late reaction, in Mm’aryn’s opinion. Both Pepper and Stark looked to be just fine from here.

“He could have, yes. However, the replacement has been installed and appears to be working as we expected.” JARVIS took over the explanation for her, while Mm’aryn tried to reach out to check with Pepper. Since Fa’loraen couldn’t check on his charge that way, he tried to visibly make sure Stark was alright and Stark’s smile reassured him somewhat.

_-Virginia?-_

Mm’aryn only got a vague acknowledgement while Pepper finished up whatever she and Stark were talking about, before Pepper turned and headed for the door with a glowing arc reactor in her hands. She silently huffed in amusement at the sight of both Mm’aryn and Fa’loraen attempting to peer into the workshop and slipped outside to leave Stark to whatever Stark did.

“Did you two need something?”

 _-JARVIS said you were replacing Stark’s arc reactor and he went into cardiac arrest?-_ Mm’aryn raised an eyebrow.

Fa’loraen padded along beside them, looking worried. _–He’s fine, right? He looks fine.-_

“That’s Tony’s fault. If he’d just _explained_ beforehand…” Pepper took a steadying breath. “Yes, he is fine. Absolutely fine. Nothing to worry about now that the new reactor’s in.”

 _-What are you gonna do with the old one then?-_ Fa’loraen nodded at the reactor in her hands.

Pepper hummed thoughtfully. “I’m not entirely sure yet. Maybe put it in a glass case?”

Mm’aryn clambered up to get a closer look at it, as Fa’loraen directed his gaze at the floor. _–I’m glad you aren’t planning on getting rid of it.-_ His voice was quiet and pained and he didn’t notice Mm’aryn and Pepper exchange glances above him.

 _-You could always carve something into it, if you’re gonna put it in a case anyway.-_ Mm’aryn offhandedly pointed out.

“That sounds like you’re trying to get back at him for something.” Pepper sounded unimpressed, but her face was amused. “I don’t know; I’ll think about it.”

Mm’aryn dropped down to the floor and nipped at Fa’loraen’s wing to catch his attention, before running for the balcony again. _–Catch me if you can, Wisp-shadow.-_

Fa’loraen snorted and slinked after her, shimmering out of sight as he passed the balcony doors. _–Is that what you call a challenge, Sky-fire?-_

“What do you think, JARVIS? Should I put it in a case and carve something on the edges?” Pepper sat back down in her seat and studied the arc reactor as she placed it on the coffee table.

JARVIS’ silence was thoughtful. “It appears to have some sort of personal significance to Fa’loraen. May I suggest something to counter the articles that irritated you the most prior to Sir’s trip to Afghanistan?”

“The ones calling him heartless?” Pepper raised her eyebrows and looked up at the ceiling in consideration. “That might actually be a good idea. Tony’d get a good laugh, anyway.”

“Shall I call the engraver’s?” JARVIS said promptly.

“Yes, please, JARVIS.” She eyed the blank metal edge circling the glowing arc reactor and imagined something carved there. ‘Proof Tony Stark has a heart.’

Yeah, he’d like that.

 

* * *

 

James had been relegated to lecturing the trainees on the future of aerial combat for being unable to convince Tony not to shut down his weapons manufacturing division. It was a bit frustrating that they didn’t believe he couldn’t exactly tell Tony what to do, but he sucked it up and did what he’d been told to. This wasn’t the first time he’d lost flight privileges because Tony was an unreliable asshole, after all.

The group of trainees and James were walking through the hangar when a familiar voice called out his rank.

“Colonel. Why not a pilot without the plane?” Tony walked up, looking a lot steadier than James had expected from the rumors going around. Fa’loraen trailed on Tony’s heels, looking around curiously at the various parked planes and blinking up at the Air Force trainees. Looked like Tony _still_ couldn’t see the dragon.

“Look who fell outta the sky. Mr. Tony Stark.” James gestured Tony, as his friend reached out to shake one of the trainees’ hands.

“Speaking of manned or unmanned, you gotta get him to tell you about the time he guessed wrong. It’s spring break. Just remember that. Spring break, 1987.” James shot him an incredulous look and started shaking his head at Tony, but Tony ignored him, as usual, because Tony never listened unless you said something repeatedly and loudly. “That lovely lady you woke up.”

“Don’t do that,” James said, longsuffering and making a token attempt to head off what he knew would be an embarrassing implication. Fa’loraen shot him a sympathetic look.

“What was his name?”

“Don’t do that.” The trainees laughed.

“Was it Ivan?”

“Don’t do that. They’ll believe that,” James repeated, shaking his head and giving Tony an exasperated look. “Don’t do that.”

“Okay.” Tony finally backed down.

“Don’t do that.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Tony nodded at the trainees, as James said, laughing a little, “Give us a coupla minutes, you guys.”

The trainees were barely passed James when he lightly hit Tony’s arm, looking him up and down with a happy huff. “I’m surprised.”

“Why?” Tony turned to look at him, suddenly serious.

“Swear I didn’t expect to see you walking around so soon.” James was still grinning a bit.

Tony looked him right in the eyes. “I’m doing a little better than walking.”

“Really?” James crossed his arms, eyeing Tony critically and momentarily bouncing his gaze down to Fa’loraen. The dragon didn’t look skeptical or doubtful, so James took Tony at his word and his gaze became expectant.

“Yeah.” A pause. “Rhodey, I’m working on something big.” Tony raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. “I came to talk to ya. I wantcha to be part of it.”

James nodded happily, but there was a touch of wariness in it because Tony was unpredictable like that. Say one thing on national television and then say something else a couple days afterwards. The thing was he’d had a feeling that Tony’d been serious that time and if there was anything James had learned from being friends with Tony, it was to trust his gut. James pushed. “You’re about to make a whole lotta people ‘round here real happy ‘cuz that li’l stunt at the press conference. That was a doozy.”

Tony looked as close to nervousness as he ever got these days and James bounced another look down at Fa’loraen. The dragon only gave him a questioning look. “This…is not for the military. I’m not—it’s different.”

James frowned, a bit confused. If Tony wasn’t making something for the military, what could he be working on? “What, you, you a humanitarian now or something?”

“I need you to listen to me,” Tony started solemnly, but James had to cut him off. If Tony was really working on something that wasn’t military-related, then James probably didn’t have the clearance for it and he didn’t want to know. For one, it sounded like it’d be breaking quite a few laws and for another…

For another, he needed plausible deniability when Tony unveiled whatever it was. He needed plausible deniability and James was very well aware that the fewer people who knew what Tony was working on, the longer it would remain secret. Tony shouldn’t go spilling his newest secret project to his oldest friend because that oldest friend also had split loyalties; even if it hurt the both of them, James had to keep himself out of the loop, so Tony could do what he needed to do. Which meant one more push to keep Tony from coming back.

“No. What you need is time to get your mind right.” James made sure his voice was steady with conviction and that his gaze was immovable. Tony…smiled, media-smiled, the one that said he was just humoring you, and James had never liked that smile. It just rubbed him the wrong way, made him feel like Tony wasn’t taking him seriously, but he forced himself to ignore it and continue pushing. “I’m serious.”

Tony smoothed his face out, left a lingering smile on his face, but his eyes were distant and closed off and his jaw was set. James _hated_ doing this sometimes, but being Tony’s friend, as well as SI’s military liaison, meant navigating a field of eggshells, broken glass, and the occasional IED. Pepper was _so_ lucky that she worked for him.

“Okay.”

James backed off hesitantly. “It was nice seeing you, Tony.” He turned to go back to his trainees and just barely caught Tony’s muttered “Thanks,” subdued and quiet as it was.

There was a moment of silence as Tony watched him walk away and James took a chance to glance downward. Irritated silver eyes glared up at him, but he subtly jerked his chin up and Fa’loraen clambered up to his shoulder, intentionally jabbing him with his sharp claws. James hid a wince; the dragon was clearly annoyed.

 _-I thought you two were friends.-_ came the accusation and James had to hide a flinch this time. When he said he’d watch over Tony, he really hadn’t been kidding around.

James clumsily tried to reach back. _That’s why I did what I did. Yes, I have some leverage over what Tony does, but_ I _don’t want to end up_ being _the leverage, you get me? Besides, he likes me and I don’t wanna mess with that._

What he really meant was that he didn’t want anyone getting the dumb idea of _using_ that friendship to get Tony to do things for them because one: Tony would probably fuck them up real good, and two: _hell_ no to James being some twisted damsel-in-distress. He could take care of himself, thank you very much.

He could feel the examining gaze on him and the considering sway of a tail. What he didn’t expect was the sympathy in Fa’loraen’s voice. _–You have split loyalties. I don’t envy you.-_ The dragon pushed off of his shoulder and James felt the wind from a down-flap brush his back. _–He was really excited to share it with you, but I guess you’ll just see it when it’s done.-_

James mentally scowled. _Way to twist the knife._

He got the impression Fa’loraen’d done that on purpose.

 

* * *

 

Several weeks later, Pepper made her way downstairs with a cup of coffee, the engraved arc reactor wrapped up in brown paper, and several files for Tony to read. Mm’aryn followed on her heels, reluctant and casting dark looks back up the stairs as Pepper tapped in her code for the workshop. They entered and headed straight for Tony, who looked to be putting his arm into some weird mechanical sleeve.

“I’ve been buzzing you. Did you hear the intercom?”

“Yeah, everything’s—what?” Tony had clearly been in the middle of a creation phase, but her presence seemed to have jolted him out of it.

“Obadiah’s upstairs.” Pepper put the stack of files, gift, and coffee onto the nearest clear space and turned to Tony. “What would you like me to tell…”

“Great. Great. I’ll be right up.” And that was his let-me-just-finish-this-one-thing voice. Tony grunted and lifted his metal-encased arm out of the stand, attempting to aim it towards the center of the workshop. “Okay.”

 _What the heck is he wearing?_ Tony seemed to have built himself some sort of arm harness that wrapped around his torso and hooked into the arc reactor. There was a bright light in his palm that was glowing.

Mm’aryn shot her a skeptical look. _–Why don’t you ask him, instead of me?-_

Pepper took several steps forward. “I thought you said you were done making weapons.”

“It isn’t. This is a flight stabilizer.” Tony hit a button. “It’s completely harmless.”

Both the light in Tony’s hand and the arc reactor began whining in that recognizable way that said they were building up energy. Mm’aryn hissed and backed up, just before the whining sound hit its peak and the light in Tony’s hand discharged with the sound of something large catching fire. Whatever came out of the light shot across the room, throwing Tony off his feet and causing Pepper to instinctively cover her ears and turn away.

 _-…I think it’s safe to check on him.-_ Mm’aryn said after a moment, when the only thing she could hear was Stark’s tools falling to the floor.

Pepper dropped her hands and turned back to Tony, staring at the mess he’d made of that corner of his workshop and unconsciously gritting her teeth to ride down the adrenaline currently rushing through her veins.

“I didn’t expect that,” Tony said weakly from where he was sprawled and Mm’aryn snorted.

 _-Clearly.-_ She drawled, stepping forward to see exactly what kind of mess Tony had gotten himself into and wincing at the damage. _–Oof. That’s gonna hurt for a while.-_

 

* * *

 

They left Stark to pick himself up and dust himself off, returning to the living room so Pepper could get back to working. Mm’aryn and Fa’loraen had huddled together on the fireplace hearth, both keeping a wary eye on Obadiah, who’d been playing the piano pretty much since he’d arrived.

It didn’t take Stark long to show his face and he immediately turned his attention to Obadiah. “How’d it go?”

Stane only glanced at him, opening his mouth and then turning back to the piano without saying anything. Stark circled towards the couch, spotted the pizza box, and hummed in a subdued manner. “Went that bad, huh?

“Just because I brought pizza back from New York doesn’t mean it went bad,” Stane said, still not looking up from the piano keys.

“Uh-huh.” Stark sounded skeptical, even as he grabbed a slice of pizza. “Sure doesn’t. Oh, boy.”

“Would’ve gone better if you were there.” Stane stopped playing and set his hands on his hips, looking over at Stark.

“Mm-mm.” Stark took a bite of his pizza slice. “You told me to lay low. That’s what I’ve been doing. I lay low and let you take care of all the…”

Stane grabbed his glass of alcohol and walked over to the couch. “Hey, come on. In public. The press. This was a board of directors’ meeting.” He took a seat next to Stark.

“This wa—this was a board of directors’ meeting?” Stark leaned back and looked at Stane in surprise.

“The board is claiming, uh, post-traumatic stress. They’re filing an injunction,” Stane said seriously. Mm’aryn hissed and narrowed her eyes, while Fa’loraen wrinkled his snout. Pepper barely glanced at them.

“A what?” Stark looked more incredulous than confused, but Stane went into more detail anyway.

_What?_

“They wanna lock you out.”

_-He’s a liar.-_

“Why, because the stock dropped forty points? We knew that was gonna happen.”

“Fifty-six and a half,” Pepper corrected flatly.

_Obadiah? What would he have to lie about?_

Stark immediately turned on Pepper and Fa’loraen had to nudge Mm’aryn’s shoulder before the female dragon decided to leap on Stark for his sharp tone. Mm’aryn forced herself to relax, but she didn’t quite manage to stifle the low growl rumbling in her throat.

“It doesn’t matter. _We_ own the controlling interest in the company.”

 _-How am_ I _supposed to know? I just know that sentence tasted like a lie.-_

“Tony, the board has rights, too.” Stane’s voice was calm and steady, though he wasn’t quite looking Stark in the eye. Pepper shot Mm’aryn a flat look. “They’re making the case that you and your new direction isn’t in the company’s best interest.”

Stark apparently took offense. “ _I’m_ being responsible. That’s a new direction. For me—for the company.”

Stane raised his eyebrows incredulously. Stark scrambled to fix his mistake. “I mean, me on the company’s behalf being responsible for the way that…” He looked to Pepper for support, but Pepper only sighed, audibly this time, because regardless of his intentions, he couldn’t just yank the entire company in a new direction without having to fight the current that was already there.

“Oh, this is great,” Stark muttered, standing up and taking the pizza box with him.

“Oh, come on.” Stane’s voice was placating as he drank from his glass. “Hey. Tony, _Tony_.”

“I’ll be in the shop.” Stark made sure to talk over Stane.

“Hey, hey, hey. Tony. Listen.” Stane got up and turned Stark to face him again, which had Fa’loraen carefully bristling. “I’m trying to turn this thing around, but you gotta give me something. Something to pitch ‘em.” He pointed at Stark’s arc reactor. “Let me have the engineers analyze that. Y’know, draw up some specs—”

“No,” Stark immediately vetoed. “No. Absolutely not.”

“It’ll give me a bone to throw the boys in New York,” Stane pleaded.

“This one stays with me. That’s it, Obie. Forget it.” Stark was clearly adamant about that and no wonder. If Mm’aryn’d had something that precious, no way was she letting anyone else touch it without her express permission.

 “Alright. Well, this stays with me then.” Stane took the pizza box and then opened it. “Go on. Here, you can have a piece. Take two.”

“Thank you.” Stark grabbed a slice and turned for the workshop stairs.

“You mind if I come down there and see what you’re doing?” He asked as he closed the pizza box.

Stark didn’t even bother turning around. “G’night, Obie.”

 

* * *

 

Later that night, after Pepper and Mm’aryn had gone home, Fa’loraen was startled out of his sleep by the sound of something crashing through the ceiling, into the piano, and landing with a crunch on one of the cars in the workshop. He padded over and peeked downwards, spotting something silver and humanoid getting sprayed by white cloudy stuff. Fa’loraen then peered upwards through the hole in the ceiling, but there were only the stars, twinkling in the clear night sky.

He reached out to JARVIS, eyeing the silver thing with a lazy half-lidded gaze and flexing his claws. _–I hope you know what’s going on because there’s a silver humanoid in the workshop and I’m about to do something…irreversible.-_

“Sir built it and is currently inside of it,” JARVIS said quickly, bringing Fa’loraen’s flexing to a halt. “He just returned from its maiden flight and attempted to land on the roof, but the armor was clearly too heavy to manage that.”

Fa’loraen studied the silver armor as Stark pushed himself out of the remains of the car he landed on. _–How fast did he go?-_

JARVIS was silent for a moment. “Sir did not utilize the armor’s full capabilities, but he has designed it to be capable of supersonic speeds.”

Fa’loraen sparked irritably in the back of his throat. _–That’ll make my job a lot harder.-_ He padded back to the hearth, grumbling and flexing his claws, which left thin scratches in the floor. _-A Storm-rider would’ve been a lot more useful here._ They _, at least, might be able to keep up with Stark.-_

He curled up and fumed, gouging furrows into the hearth and ignoring the obvious trail they’d leave behind, but it wasn’t enough. Frustrated with everything that’d happened to him in the last half a year, Fa’loraen jumped back down, stalked over to the hole in the ceiling, and threw himself up through it.

“Fa’loraen?” JARVIS’ voice was much fainter now that Fa’loraen was outside.

 _-I’m heading out for a while to burn off some…emotions. I’ll be back, but I don’t think you and electricity will mix very well.-_ Fa’loraen lashed his tail and spread his wings, crouching down to give himself a good boost.

“Very well. I suppose I’ll see you in a few hours then.”

With that, Fa’loraen shot up into the night sky and slipped back through the divide to unleash a furious lightning storm over the vast plain of spires that pretty much worked as a venting ground for those with lightning-based magics. He was almost constantly surrounded by thunder and lightning until the dawn came and he slipped back through to curl up on his spot on Stark’s hearth, smelling slightly of ozone and much more relaxed.

One day at a time. He’d just take things one day at a time.

…and maybe he’d just hang on to Stark’s armor when Stark decided to head off somewhere in it. That was a thought.

 

* * *

 

_-Mm’aryn.-_

Mm’aryn blinked and turned to see Fa’loraen making his way over to where she was perched on top of a decoration to keep out of the way. The male dragon looked a bit sullen, but she was more curious about his presence than his expression.

 _-Fa’loraen. So, Stark’s here then?-_ She scanned the crowd for Stark, while reaching out to try to alert Pepper about the sudden presence of her boss.

Fa’loraen nodded at the bar. _–Over there, talking to the one with the odd segmentation.-_

 _-Ah.-_ Mm’aryn only got vague acknowledgement and a _Hold on_ from Pepper. _–Any idea why he’s here?-_

Fa’loraen shrugged. _–He told bitter-smoke-ashes that he had cabin fever?-_

Mm’aryn grimaced when Stark clearly spotted Pepper, while Fa’loraen rolled his eyes. The former tried to give Pepper some warning, but she didn’t quite manage it before Stark was heading over. _–He needed to stretch his wings.-_

Surprise echoed down the bond. _Why didn’t you warn me?_

 _-Tried to.-_ Mm’aryn wrinkled her snout as Pepper and Stark started up their version of a courting dance.

Beside her, Fa’loraen squinted at the two and tilted his head to the side. After a moment, he shook his head and looked at her. _–Are they courting or not? I can’t tell.-_

 _-They’re not human-courting, but Virginia didn’t say whether proper courting counted.-_ Mm’aryn considered the emotions swirling in the bond, discomfort and uneasiness melting slowly into fondness and hesitant familiarity, all underlain by muted attraction and rising desire. She then eyed Stark and the way he held Pepper close, the way all of his attention seemed to be focused on her, the way his soul tried to reach out to hers again and again, and the way hers was tentatively beginning to reach back. _–They’ll probably start human-courting soon, I think, but they’ve been proper courting for years now.-_

Fa’loraen snorted and his voice was wry when he next spoke. _–Those two should figure it out soon. Some Blood-hunter would probably be able to sense all the tension from here and lock them together, just so they wouldn’t have to deal with the headache.-_

Mm’aryn shot him a sidelong glance. _–_ You’re _a Wisp-shadow. Don’t you have some sort of capturing magic or something?-_

She got an incredulous look in return. _–What do you think we_ do _? That’s not us. We’re ambush and eviscerate. I think that’s the Hoard-keepers, if it’s anyone.-_

Mm’aryn sighed grumpily. _–We could use whoever it is to clear this up. It’d be nice to stop getting the urge to rip his throat out.-_

Fa’loraen automatically snarled, before he shoved his reaction back to normal. _–Don’t do that. Please.-_

Mm’aryn shrugged and hopped down to trail after the two as they began heading for the balcony. She didn’t have to look back to feel Fa’loraen’s presence following behind her. _–That’s how I’ve been feeling for the last few years. As you can see, it hasn’t been all that fun to deal with, so if you’ve got any idea for how to fix it…-_

 _-You can’t convince her? It looks to me like the problem’s with Pepper, rather than Stark.-_ Fa’loraen glanced curiously at Mm’aryn, who lashed her tail and shook her head.

_-He used to be a butterfly of a male, so she sees it as his typical behavior. If he wants a proper life-mate like his soul’s saying, then he’ll have to do more than what he’s currently doing.-_

Mm’aryn leaped up onto the waist-high barrier encircling the balcony and padded over to where Pepper and Stark were currently having their conversation with Fa’loraen right on her heels. Pepper, used to the dragons’ presences, barely acknowledged their arrival, but there was a split-second flash of dark eyes from Stark. The dragons stared at Stark, who didn’t seem to notice their gazes, and exchanged looks with each other.

 _-Did you…?-_ Fa’loraen nodded at Stark.

 _-I think so, but then why…?-_ Mm’aryn snuck a glance at Stark and then turned back to Fa’loraen. _–Do you think JARVIS knows?-_

Fa’loraen frowned. _-Why wouldn’t he say something?-_

_-Stark’s his father. If he didn’t want it getting around, why would JARVIS say anything?-_

Fa’loraen hummed thoughtfully and turned to watch Pepper and Stark try to figure out what they were doing now. Mm’aryn watched Stark for another moment, but her attention was quickly dragged over to Pepper, who was currently flustered and frustrated and having a hard time verbalizing her panicking thoughts.

 _-Breathe and calm down.-_ Mm’aryn told her with more than a little amusement. _–He’s not going to hear you if you don’t get your words lined up.-_

 _Easy for you to say._ You’re _not the one trying to talk to someone you find attractive, but who’s also such a pain to deal with and a playboy to boot._ Pepper immediately replied and then her words trailed off as she registered the thought.

Mm’aryn was trying very hard to stifle her relieved snickering as Pepper’s soul finally, _finally_ acknowledged Stark’s attempts to court her, but she was failing pretty badly. Next to her, Fa’loraen was staring in disbelief before his expression became deadpan when Pepper and Stark began closing the distance between them.

 _-You’ve_ got _to be kidding me.-_ He said flatly, backing up a bit, and glancing at Mm’aryn, who looked like she’d just out-flown a Storm-rider’s hurricane winds, giddy and relieved and riding high on adrenaline. _–I really don’t think that’s how human-courting works.-_

Mm’aryn rasped out a giddy laugh. _–What gave you the idea that these two would stick to a typical_ human _-courting?_ He’s _dragon-soul enough to know what his soul’s been doing all this time.-_

The drop back to solid ground was unexpected and harsh. Discomfort, shame, and shock suddenly flooded down the bond and Mm’aryn reeled, while Pepper and Stark separated. Fa’loraen shot Mm’aryn a sympathetic glance before he followed after Stark and left Mm’aryn and Pepper alone on the balcony.

“I can’t believe I almost—why didn’t you _stop_ me?” Pepper finally allowed herself to look frazzled by the encounter and turned desperate eyes on Mm’aryn.

 _-Stop you? I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out for_ years _now.-_ Mm’aryn gingerly moved up until she could nudge Pepper’s elbow with her snout.

 _Years? You only brought it up last year._ Pepper’s brow was furrowed and she looked confused.

Mm’aryn’s tone was matter-of-fact and then wry. _–I figured you didn’t need to deal with a dragon getting territorial on top of working for Stark, but I didn’t expect you two to take so long figuring it out.-_

Pepper’s gaze went distant as she went hunting through her memory. _You haven’t acted all that differently, since you came back…_

Mm’aryn snorted. _–Of course not. What sort of human-friend would I be if I couldn’t sit on my draconic instincts every once in a while?-_

Pepper didn’t have a response to that, but she sent along a wave of reassurance and gratitude that Mm’aryn replied to with contented fondness and sheepish acknowledgement. They waited on the balcony in comfortable silence, Pepper standing next to the barrier and Mm’aryn across her shoulders to keep her warm.

As the minutes passed, though, Pepper began frowning again and they finally re-entered the main room to look for Stark fifteen minutes after he left. A search of the room found him absent and Pepper sighed tiredly.

 _He probably found someone else to bring home and left already._ She sounded both exasperated and resigned with the faintest hint of disappointment, but Mm’aryn was skeptical. The dragon knew what she’d seen in his soul and that didn’t quite match with Stark’s behavior as he left the balcony.

 _-I think…there’s something else going on here, but I don’t know what.-_ She told Pepper, scanning the room with narrowed eyes. She took off and circled the room once, searching for any hint of Stark or Fa’loraen, but there were none. Mm’aryn circled the room again and then landed lightly on Pepper’s shoulder, curling around the back of her neck for comfort.

_Any luck?_

Pepper was going around the room again, saying her goodbyes and thank-yous to the various guests who’d shown up. When Mm’aryn shook her head, Pepper only let a wave of tired well-what-did-I-expect flow down the bond as they headed for the door.

_Let’s head home then. I want to change out of this dress and maybe make an early night of it for once._

Mm’aryn didn’t bother speaking, sending her agreement down the bond and listening for any hints as to where Stark could’ve gone. In the back of her mind, she decided since Stark was dragon-blind, she’d take Pepper’s disappointment and rueful expectation out of Fa’loraen’s tail.

 

* * *

 

Early the next day, an anxious, restless, battle-ready Fa’loraen reflexively ducked and rolled out of the way the moment he registered a larger dragon leaping upon his previous position. He popped back to his feet and pounced forward, snarling and sharp claws outstretched to dig into scales, but his target’s wings snapped open and burst into white-orange flames, which had him immediately recoiling. Only Sky-fires managed to reliably light themselves on fire without harm and this was clearly one of them.

Fa’loraen began circling the Sky-fire, teeth bared and bristling, but the sight of a pair of legs in heels drew him up short. There weren’t anything like them at home and he followed them up in his confusion. Pepper’s wary expression managed to register in his worried state after a moment of staring, which prompted him to tune back in to his surroundings and realize that he’d just attacked Mm’aryn out of instinct.

 _-Ah. Shit.-_ He snuck a glance back at Mm’aryn and the simmering glare he got for his troubles had him wincing. _–Sorry?-_

“It’s fine,” Pepper said, giving him a cautious look. “Do you know where Tony is?”

“Sir is out at the moment, Ms. Potts,” JARVIS answered instead, catching Pepper’s attention.

Mm’aryn snorted, blowing smoke and folding her wings back in, the fire snuffing out in a blink. _–First, you and Stark leave us waiting on the balcony, and then, you manage to forget yourself in front of soul-bonds.-_

 _-You didn’t_ have _to attack me.-_ Fa’loraen shot back. _–Couldn’t you tell I was already tense?-_

 _-How am_ I _supposed to tell?_ I _don’t know what Wisp-shadows look like when they’re battle-ready.-_ Mm’aryn snarled, flexing her own claws and lashing her tail. Fa’loraen intentionally took a deep breath and relaxed, which had Mm’aryn calming down, as well. Mm’aryn blinked as she got control of herself again. _–Wait, why were you battle-ready in the first place?-_

 _-Stark’s not here. He left last night to deal with something in Afghanistan.-_ Fa’loraen relayed grimly, glancing out towards the horizon before resuming his pacing. _–I managed to see him get into the armor, but I couldn’t get a decent hold on it and I got thrown off not too far from here.-_

 _-Afghanistan?-_ Mm’aryn slowly started pacing alongside him in a show of support that Fa’loraen distantly appreciated. _–Wasn’t that where he was?-_

Fa’loraen shrugged. _–You know as well as I do. All I remember is the caves and the desert really.-_ And the blood and pain, but he wasn’t going to say it. Mm’aryn’s stony expression said he let it slip anyway.

Thankfully, she didn’t mention it and skipped right to the part he hated the most about this. _–So, it’s an ambush game, then.-_

He rasped out a laugh. _–You’d think I’d be better at it, but I won’t even know if something happens to him and what would my soul-bond say then?-_

Mm’aryn grimaced and started here-rumbling for lack of anything to say, which had Fa’loraen slowing his frantic pacing and dropping to the floor. He groaned and covered his eyes with his forelimbs, not even budging when Mm’aryn gingerly curled around him and continued here-rumbling. Beyond them, Fa’loraen managed to catch Pepper settling herself on the couch and turning on her laptop with the clear intention to stay until Stark returned. And, though the atmosphere wasn’t anywhere _close_ to peaceful, Fa’loraen was grateful all the same to have other physical beings around.

 

* * *

 

Pepper was trying very hard to relax as the elevator rose, taking her to the executive level where Tony’s and Obadiah’s offices were found. Mm’aryn sat beside her, deceptively loose and relaxed but thrumming with battle-ready tension in the bond.

_-You’re not gonna fool anyone if you don’t look less tense and more normal.-_

Pepper took a deep breath and tried to trick herself into thinking this was a typical day. She was just coming back to the office to get some files for Tony. That’s all. She wasn’t doing anything illegal or sneaky or thieving or any of that.

Mm’aryn watched her struggle to shove down her nervous tension with faint amusement. _–You could just pretend it’s a dragon thing and go from there. You’ve always been better at keeping_ that _secret than lying about anything else.-_

_That’s because I never really lied about that. I just…let people come to their own conclusions._

_-Well, then why can’t you do that here? It’s basically the same thing, right?-_ Mm’aryn peered curiously up at her.

Pepper sighed. _I suppose._

The elevator doors opened to an empty floor and Pepper concentrated on walking normally, though she ended up hanging on to her bag with a tight grip. The floor was empty and she eased the door open to check that Obadiah wasn’t in at the moment. At this time of day, she didn’t expect anyone but extreme workaholics and possibly R&D technicians to be hanging around. She closed the door to the office regardless; safer and smarter to leave as little evidence of her presence here as possible and the door opening should give her a bit of leeway, if she should get caught.

Pepper carefully woke up the computer and plugged in Tony’s USB, following Tony’s instructions to find the ghost drive and opening the files contained within. Mm’aryn leaped up to the desk to see what Pepper was looking at and Pepper frowned as she opened a folder full of schematics.

“Sector 16? What’re you up to Obadiah?” she muttered to herself, opening the next folder.

Mm’aryn snorted and then bared her teeth. _–Nothing good from the looks of that.-_

The next file was a video that automatically began playing the moment she opened it. A group of men with only their eyes showing and holding Stark weaponry were speaking to the camera and guarding a person with a bag over their head. The bag was quickly whipped off the person’s head and Mm’aryn immediately let out a hiss, unconsciously crouching on the desk as her tail lashed angrily. Pepper stared in shock for a moment before she managed to get the computer to translate what the person speaking was saying.

It quickly became clear that this was some sort of ransom video or something along those lines as the speaker sounded irritated with Obadiah’s deception.

“Oh, my god,” Pepper breathed and wisps of flame began floating up off of Mm’aryn’s tail, which had fallen still.

 _-I_ told _you.-_ She said, fury and fire and how- _dare_ -he-touch-one-of- _mine_ burning down the bond. _–I told you, didn’t I? That there was something wrong with the bald man? Didn’t I_ tell _you it would all catch fire?-_

 _I remember, but…who would’ve expected this?_ Pepper was still reeling from the shock. Had Obadiah only recently decided to get Tony killed? How long had he planned to get rid of Tony? Was the man she and Tony knew even a real person or just a mask that Oba—no, _Stane_ had hidden behind until this opportunity?

Pepper managed to gather enough of her wits to begin copying everything in the ghost drive into Tony’s USB, but she continued to stare at the computer screen as she wondered just how much damage Stane had done. Mm’aryn dropped back down to the floor and simmered in her fury and hate, barely registering the sound of footsteps before the office door opened and Stane’s voice called though.

 _-You territory-stealing, flight-ripping,_ traitor _of a named!-_ Mm’aryn snarled and would have caught fire and pounced on Stane, if Pepper’s sudden panic hadn’t brought her up short.

She jerked her head up and gasped. _No! Don’t!_

 _-He’s a betrayer!-_ The dragon spat back, teeth bared and wings open, crouching low in preparation for attack.

 _I_ know _, but we can’t just kill him here and now. If no one knows his true colors, then everyone will get the wrong idea. And they’ll think_ we’re _the betrayers._ Mm’aryn was clearly frustrated with her explanation, but she covered her teeth and pulled her wings in, though she didn’t rise from her crouched position and started a low, threatening growl in her chest. The flickers of fire didn’t go away, either, but it gave Pepper some reassurance.

“So, what are we gonna do about this? Hm?” Stane entered and crossed the room, heading straight for the alcohol. Pepper watched him, half in shock that he could act so nonchalant after almost getting Tony killed and half in frozen panic as she frantically scrambled to regain her composure. First things first, she needed to hide what she was currently copying for Tony.

“I know what you’re going through, Pepper.” He glanced up at her as he poured himself a drink. When she didn’t relax, he grinned and tried to act his usual self. “Ah, Tony. Always gets the good stuff, doesn’t he?”

He took a whiff of the alcohol and Pepper forced a nervous smile and nod. When Stane looked down to pour another drink, Pepper carefully shifted the newspaper to cover Tony’s USB. She also managed to get the monitor back to the screen saver before he caught sight of what she was doing, which was a bit of a relief. Now, to get out without giving him a reason to keep her and _with_ Tony’s USB.

“I was so happy when he came home; it was like we got him back from the dead.” Stane hovered next to her, looking at the monitor for a moment, before he circled around the back of her chair. Burning silver eyes followed him where Pepper couldn’t watch him, but nothing happened while she had her eyes off him, contrary to the possibilities being thrown up by the panicking part of her brain.

Stane leaned onto the desk. “Now, I realize…well, Tony never really did come home, did he.”

Pepper held herself still, prey in the crosshairs of a predator and tried really hard not to act too unusually.

“He left a part of himself in that cave.” Stane looked away. “Breaks my heart.”

“Well,” Pepper managed, though her voice was a little more subdued than usual. Stane took a drink from his glass, looking almost unconcerned. “He’s a complicated person. He’s been through a lot. I think…I think he’ll be alright.” She somehow pulled on her normal smile and put some confidence in her voice, though she wouldn’t be able to say _how_ later.

Stane studied her for a moment. “You…are a very rare woman.” Pepper momentarily widened her smile at the comment, as she typically did. “Tony doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

Pepper huffed out a passably-amused breath and made the motions to leave. “Thank you. Thanks.” She got up out of the chair and glanced at Stane. “Better get back there.” She picked up the newspaper and tried to subtly pull the USB at the same time. As she headed for the door, she readjusted her bag and almost began to hope that it was over, but Stane spoke again.

“Is that today’s paper?” Pepper stopped, trying to fend off another attack of nerves as Mm’aryn stalked closer to her.

“Yes.” She turned and smiled.

Stane crossed the room in a few, quick, almost-restrained steps. “Do you mind?”

Pepper handed the newspaper over, almost holding her breath as she tucked the USB into the palm of her hand. “Not at all.”

“Puzzle,” he said, just leaning inside her personal space, and she nodded with a tight smile.

“Of course.” Pepper began walking away, trying desperately not to look like she was running. Mm’aryn trailed at her heels, shooting vicious looks back at Stane as she did.

“Take care,” he called out and Pepper didn’t turn back until she’d passed the office doors. She checked to make sure she still had the USB and headed immediately for the elevator. Tony needed to see it and she needed to get away from Stane _now_.

They managed to make it to the ground floor without a problem. Pepper almost missed the Agent Coulson from the Strategic Homeland Investigation, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, but the sight of him reminded her of the appointment. Thankfully, he was also someone who probably had government backup somewhere and she desperately hoped it could match up to whatever Stane had.

“Ms. Potts. We had an appointment. Did you forget about our appointment?”

“Nope. Right now. Come with me.” Pepper continued to walk briskly for the entrance, not even slowing down for him to gather his wits. “We’re going right now.”

“Right now?” He seemed mostly unfazed by her abrupt demeanor, so things like this probably weren’t a surprise to him. Good. She needed someone with that kind of steady presence right now.

“Yup. Walk with me.” Though she didn’t look at him, she knew he’d glanced back.

“Okay.”

Only once he was pacing her did she chance a look back and she barely caught sight of Stane’s pants before she turned forward again. That one glimpse was all she needed.

“I’m going to give you the meeting of your _life_. Your office.”

 

* * *

 

Fa’loraen was lounging in front of the fire that night and listening to Stark wander into the living room when the sound of a phone went off. Stark had to do a bit of searching to find the phone, based off the sounds of fabric rustling, but it didn’t take more than a few seconds and he answered it with a bit of bafflement.

Later, Fa’loraen would curse himself for not keeping his eyes open and assuming nothing could get passed JARVIS, but at the moment, all he could do was thrash in pain and howl as the high-pitched tone scrambled and scattered his thoughts. He was blind to anything happening outside of his body and he could barely control his own limbs, let alone decipher what else was going on at the time. He barely felt it when he tipped himself off the hearth and landed on the floor, the pain running constant and allowing nothing else to intrude in his senses. He instinctively reached out for Yinsen, for the broken end of his soul-bond, but there was nothing to ground himself in. He reached out for JARVIS, but something was keeping the made-child from reaching back, transparent and immovable as glass or ice. Distantly, he recognized the colors on the barrier, but he pushed it aside to deal with when he wasn’t in so much neverending pain. In desperation, he reached out to the other dragon-soul, the one that didn’t make him shy away and bare his teeth, the one that wasn’t bitter ashes and poison ivy and ruthless betrayal, but that one was in a whirling panic and didn’t even notice his attempts.

Fa’loraen almost didn’t notice when the noise stopped, still wrapped up in the pain and unable to think past the haze, but he definitely noticed after some time when he began registering his limbs again. They ached from his thrashing and he struggled to breathe properly, bleary eyes just managing to catch the shape of someone large and broad hovering over the couch, about where he thought Stark had been. A stifled gasp cut straight through the ringing in his ears and Fa’loraen immediately tried to push himself to his feet, only for his limbs to buckle underneath him. The background drone that he hadn’t noticed slowly resolved itself into Stane’s voice monologuing about…a goose and eggs? And then something about ideas?

Confused, Fa’loraen’s gaze drifted towards the moving light and he watched Stane drop down beside Stark, holding up the light. Something about that sight struck him as wrong, but he couldn’t quite place why. He blinked and uncomfortably let Stane’s voice flow over him while he waited for his limbs to start working properly again.

 _-JARVIS?-_ Fa’loraen tried, when Stane put the light into a case. _–What’s Stane doing?-_

Stane said something about Pepper, but Fa’loraen was more worried about the fact that JARVIS wasn’t answering him. Pepper had Mm’aryn, after all.

 _-JARVIS?-_ Fa’loraen began to get a little panicked when he saw Stane get to his feet and realized Stark was missing his light. _–JARVIS!-_

He tried to push himself to his feet again and managed to stand this time, wavering and unsteady but upright. Carefully watching his feet, Fa’loraen made his way over to the couch and looked up at Stark who was struggling to move.

 _-Stark?-_ Dark eyes flashed his way and there was panicking determination visible in them. Stark somehow slid himself off the couch and onto the floor, where he began pulling himself towards the elevator.

 _Who…?_ Stark panted, dragging himself across the floor. _How…did you…get in…?_

Fa’loraen blinked and wobbled after him. _–I’ve been here a while. I’m…-_ He caught sight of the fading colors in Stark’s soul and lost his train of thought. _–That’s…not supposed…to happen…-_ He frowned.

 _What…do…you want?_ Stark didn’t even look at him, focusing more on getting to his workshop than on Fa’loraen.

 _-I’m supposed to…to keep an eye on you…-_ Fa’loraen was watching the placement of his feet, so he missed Stark’s wary glance at him. Or, well, as much of a wary glance as he could give when his heart wasn’t pumping properly and he could almost _feel_ the shrapnel digging their way through him. _–For my soul-bond…I think.-_ Silver eyes glanced up a bit dazedly and almost confused. _–He didn’t…he didn’t want…he wanted me…-_ Fa’loraen trailed off, unable to hold a solid thought.

They eventually made it to the elevator and Stark fell against the wall as it traveled downward. He managed to get the door to the workshop open and ended up falling forward with Fa’loraen trailing unsteadily after him. Fa’loraen paced him as he crawled across the workshop floor and only glanced bewildered between Stark and the light on the table that he was reaching for. For some reason, the sight of that light tugged at his heart and Fa’loraen quickly looked away from it. Now that Stark wasn’t moving, though, Fa’loraen ended up losing interest in Stark and turned to watch the metal-robot-thing bring the light-that-hurt to Stark. Stark smashed the light-that-hurt into the ground and Fa’loraen flinched back at the noise and scattering glass. He circled back in as Stark put it into the hole in his chest and something settled within him.

Fa’loraen relaxed and waited for Stark to move. When he didn’t get up immediately, Fa’loraen gingerly nudged him and Stark grunted. _Lea’me alone._

 _-Okay.-_ Fa’loraen curled up next to Stark and began dozing almost instantly, forgetting completely what Stane had said about Pepper.

 

* * *

 

James was on his way home when he got Pepper’s call and the moment he picked up, she was rattling off whatever it was that she’d found out. There was a frantic note in her voice, something worried and panicked and fretful, and James found himself automatically trying to calm her down. While James was very used to and could follow along when Tony started rambling, Pepper’s words were almost tripping over each other to get out and James didn’t have as much experience following Pepper when she got afflicted with word-vomit. Mostly since he’d never known her to _get_ word-vomit, but apparently times were changing.

“What do you mean, he paid to have Tony killed?” he asked, making very sure to keep his voice steady. James hadn’t ever really had much of an opinion on Obadiah one way or the other, but Tony’d trusted him and thought of him as a mentor, so James had assumed the guy was pretty decent, at least.

“Pepper, slow down.” Her voice was beginning to pick up the pace again, but his reminder had her returning to a more forced calm. “Why would Obadiah…?”

She jumped over to worrying about Tony, not quite answering him, but James could deal. After all these years as Tony’s friend and as a member of the Air Force, he could deal with not knowing the whole situation. Oh, he’d get it out of one of them eventually, Pepper or Tony or one of the dragons, but he’d get the whole story. Besides, Pepper owed him an explanation and Tony owed him at _least_ one plane.

“Okay, where’s Tony now?” Pepper didn’t know, but she wanted him to check the mansion first, so to the mansion he’d go. “Alright. I’ll go check.” James hung up and yanked on the wheel of his truck.

“Man, oh, man, Tony. How do you keep getting _in_ to these things?” he muttered under his breath as he sped towards the mansion.

It didn’t take him long to get there and he was leaping out of the car almost immediately. The door was already unlocked and JARVIS didn’t greet him, so James knew _something_ had happened. He hurried through to the living room, calling Tony’s name, but there wasn’t any response. Beginning to worry, he called out for JARVIS with no luck and, after a moment’s hesitation, Fa’loraen. The dragon didn’t reach back to him and he didn’t see him anywhere, which was when the dread started turning his guts into a ball of ice.

Not spotting anything out of the ordinary on the ground floor, James hurried down to the workshop, figuring that it was more like Tony to be there than in bed at this time of night. He didn’t even stop to wonder why the glass walls were gone, before he called out for Tony again and scanned the workshop.

“Tony!”

James would swear his heart stopped when he spotted Tony on the floor, facedown and still, with Fa’loraen curled up in a ball next to his neck. Sudden panic choked him, but he powered through it and ran to his best friend’s side.

“Tony. You okay?” He turned Tony over and rode the wave of relief that swamped through him when Tony grabbed at his arm to pull himself up. The arc reactor glowed bright and strong in Tony’s chest, but Tony looked like death warmed over.

“Here. Where’s Pepper?” Even his voice was hoarse, though James knew that wouldn’t stop him from whatever it was that he was worrying about now. James spared a brief, worried glance for Fa’loraen who hadn’t even stirred with all the noise they were making, but he had time to figure out what to do about the dragon later.

“She’s fine.” He tried to reassure Tony. “She’s with…five agents. They’re about to arrest Obadiah.”

“That’s not gonna be enough,” Tony said and his surety had James convinced they were missing something. The look in Tony’s eyes told James that regardless of Tony’s current condition, he was _going_ to be heading out to deal with the situation.

“Over there. There’s an…assembly rig.” Tony stumbled over to the spot and James supported him until they got where they needed to go. Tony then tried to push him away, but James only let him go when he managed to hold himself upright. “Back up. Don’t…wanna get caught in this.”

James watched as Tony was wrapped up in the pieces of that metal suit, impressed with the sight before him. Sure, he’d seen _plenty_ of Tony’s projects, good and bad, but this one was something else.

“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, impressed and awed and envious. Because, while he hadn’t exactly _forgotten_ the current situation, the possibilities with the metal suit were so much _more_ than almost anything Tony’d ever put out for production. Honestly, by James’ estimation, it was probably just as amazing as JARVIS or any of the bots and, for a split-second, he considered asking Tony to build him one. But he let the feeling pass because this wasn’t the time and that wasn’t how their friendship worked.

“Not bad, huh?” And James was very glad that Tony’s voice and color were getting better with every moment the arc reactor sat in his chest. “Let’s do it.” Tony shifted his weight and turned towards his totaled Cobra, blasting it with one of his hand-beams and making James wince. The armor clunked its way over to the hole that hadn’t yet been patched and Tony turned around to face him again.

“You need me to do anything else?” James asked.

The faceplate clunked down and the modulated voice echoed a bit from within the armor. “Keep the skies clear.” Tony shot off like a rocket and was gone.

James stared wistfully at the hole in the ceiling. “Damn.” After a moment, he turned to study the silver armor that Tony’d left behind before pulling his gaze away. No, he wouldn’t go behind Tony’s back. He’d managed to get a ton of cool things already by just being Tony’s friend—Tony’s best friend because Tony kinda sucked at _saying_ anything meaningful, but he very clearly _showed_ how he felt in the things he did for you and how he treated you, compared to the people he couldn’t care less about; he didn’t need any more. If Tony wanted to give him one someday, then that’s when he’d get it and he wouldn’t say a _thing_ to Tony about wanting one beforehand.

In the meantime, he had to go make sure no one shot his best friend out of the sky and figure out what to do with the sleeping or unconscious dragon on Tony’s floor.

 

* * *

 

Pepper and Mm’aryn followed behind Agent Coulson and another agent as they finally entered Sector 16. It was eerily quiet in here and the scant light only made the feeling worse. They went down a few stairs and Agent Coulson stopped to look at a big, bulky humanoid suit.

_I recognize that from the files on the ghost drive._

Mm’aryn bristled, curling closer around Pepper’s neck and moving her gaze constantly. _–I don’t like this.-_

“Looks like you were right,” Agent Coulson said. “He was building a suit.”

Pepper considered the size of the suit and the size of Obadiah and what she knew of Obadiah’s preference for flashy, ostentatious things. “I thought it’d be bigger.”

 _-It looks just about right for Stark.-_ Mm’aryn commented before snapping her head around and stilling. Pepper turned in the direction Mm’aryn was staring in. One of the chains had clinked and was that a thud she’d heard?

There was a pair of sparking wires hanging at a point much higher than the previous suit and Pepper examined it curiously. _Something must have been here just recently…_

Mm’aryn huddled closer with bared teeth and a lashing tail. _–I’m really not liking this.-_

The agents split into pairs to search the area, leaving Pepper to wander around near the sparking wires. Behind her, the chains clinked and she spun around with Mm’aryn curling tighter and tenser around her neck. Something caught her eye behind the chains and Pepper approached, trying to peer through the curtain.

 _-Virginia.-_ Mm’aryn’s voice held a cautionary, warning tone in it. _–I don’t think we should get any closer. Virginia…-_

Pepper startled as two slits of blue glowed at her from the darkness and she backed up a little as they rose higher and higher. She yelped and bolted, heading back to the entrance of the sector and hopefully the agents that’d come with her.

 _-Hurry, hurry, hurry.-_ Mm’aryn urged her, the slightest hint of vindication in her voice. Pepper felt her turn to keep an eye on the suit following her. _–He’s taken out the agents and he’s coming right for us.-_ Mm’aryn’s voice rose in alarm towards the end and she hissed at the armor, though they both knew that Obadiah wouldn’t hear it.

 _-He’s gotten stuck in the doorway.-_ Mm’aryn reported as they began heading out of the building.

“Pepper.” Tony’s voice came over the Bluetooth and both of them were relieved that he sounded alright.

“Tony! Tony, are you okay?” Pepper automatically replied.

“I’m fine.”

“O-obadiah. He-he’s gone insane.”

“I know. Listen, you better get outta there—”

“He-he built a suit—”

“Get outta there right now, understand?”

_-Virginia!-_

Pepper turned as the sound of cracking asphalt reached her ears and she slowly backed away at the sight of something coming out of the ground. Mm’aryn snarled another inaudible warning, but her breath was warm against Pepper’s check. Far warmer than it had been just a few moments earlier, but Pepper didn’t want to risk a glance as the suit towered above her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Pepper didn’t reply, too far gone in shock and terror, but she continued to back up and yelped again. The suit raised an arm and the barrels on its side popped up to focus on her, while against her cheek, the heat radiating from Mm’aryn’s mouth continued to rise.

“Your services are no longer required.”

There was a shifting of weight on her shoulder as Mm’aryn prepared to leap forward and engage Obadiah in battle, but a familiar voice called out, loud and attention-grabbing.

“Stane!” Tony barreled straight into Obadiah and the two armors vanished back into the ground. Mm’aryn didn’t waste a moment and leaped to the ground, nudging and pushing at Pepper to get closer to the building. It didn’t take long before they spotted both armors taking off into the sky, Tony like a sleek missile and Obadiah like a space rocket, but they quickly lost sight of them.

“Potts.”

“Tony.” Neither of them had noticed either armor coming back down, but Tony sounded mostly fine. Mm’aryn clambered back up to Pepper’s shoulder and listened carefully for anything that wasn’t Stark. “Oh, my god. Are, are you okay?”

“I’m almost outta power. I gotta get outta this thing. I’ll be right there.”

Mm’aryn’s head snapped around. _–No. Don’t. You don’t know if he’s finished yet. You didn’t see him_ die _.-_

A low boom echoed down the line and Pepper’s heartrate skyrocketed again. Mm’aryn hissed in frustration. _–He has enough dragon-soul for courting, but not enough for_ battle _. Why couldn’t it have been the other way around?-_

 _I don’t think you’d have liked him at all, if it was the other way around._ Pepper replied distantly, worrying about the battle they couldn’t see. Mm’aryn snorted, but didn’t refute the statement, listening intently for what sounds she could manage to pick up from the roof. There were several bursts of light as flares flew in every direction and then things got quiet again.

“Potts.” Tony was trying to be quiet.

“Tony.”

“This isn’t working. We’re gonna have to overload the reactor and blast the roof.”

“Well, how are you gonna do that?” Mm’aryn scoffed at that, but it was edged in adrenaline and more amused than anything.

“You’re gonna do it. Go to the central console. Open up all the circuits. When I get clear of the roof, I’ll let you know. You’re gonna hit the master bypass button. It’s going to fry everything up here.”

Pepper started carefully picking her way through the glass-littered floor of the building as she moved to do what Tony requested. “Okay. I’m going in now.”

“Make sure you wait until I clear the roof. I’ll buy you some time.”

Pepper started pulling levers, pushing buttons, and turning dials to get everything to redirect their power to the main reactor alone. Meanwhile, Mm’aryn tracked what she could see of the fight and relayed it to Pepper through their long-unused sight-sharing. That didn’t stop her from announcing when she was done, since Tony didn’t have access to the same powers they did.

“It’s ready, Tony. Get off the roof.” Pepper tilted her head back to watch what she could with her own eyes, but the sudden rain of glass had her ducking for cover. Mm’aryn hopped onto Pepper’s back and spread her wings out, blue-white fire licking upwards to melt everything that didn’t miss Pepper and Mm’aryn made sure it dripped off to the sides. When the glass stopped falling, Pepper returned to the master bypass button and looked up.

“Tony!”

Stane was monologuing, but they couldn’t hear what he was saying at all. Tony was only just audible.

“Pepper.” He sounded expectant. “Time to hit the button.”

“You told me not to!”

“Just do it!”

“You’ll die!”

Tony slipped and he was only holding on by one hand now. “Push it!”

Pepper pushed the button and then hurried outside as the reactor began throwing out lightning with a whirring noise. Mm’aryn made sure to keep close to Pepper and not present anything that might count as a lightning rod. It wasn’t until the reactor was already firing that Mm’aryn realized that she hadn’t heard from Fa’loraen at all throughout this mess.

_-Virginia, do you know where Fa’loraen is?-_

Pepper twitched in surprise. _I—no, I have no idea where he is._

 _-Hell’s fire. Of all the flight-tearing, wing-ripping…Hell’s fires.-_ Mm’aryn trailed off, watching the column of energy shoot into the sky. _–I’m dead. I am_ so _dead.-_

The column of energy dissipated and a moment later, Mm’aryn felt the pause before an explosion again. _–Duck!-_

She didn’t need to say it. Pepper felt it through the bond and had made sure to keep going, far enough away that she wouldn’t get caught in the explosion or its aftermath. As the heat faded away, they both stared up towards the roof, waiting to see whether Tony had survived.

When no snarky billionaire stumbled to reassure them, Mm’aryn finally left Pepper behind and flew up to the roof to check on him. The arc reactor was glowing weakly, but it was still glowing and that was all that mattered.

 _-He’s alive.-_ She told Pepper, who flooded their bond with relief and giddiness. _–He’s alive.-_

* * *

 

 _-I missed the entire thing?-_ Fa’loraen said incredulously as Stark commented on the ‘Iron Man’ article on the front page of the newspaper. The male dragon was still sluggish, but after sleeping straight through the night, he’d managed to gather his scattered thoughts, just in time to catch the clean-up.

Mm’aryn nodded. _–Rhodey found you on the floor of Stark’s workshop, completely out.-_ She glanced sidelong at him. _-Apparently, you didn’t even wake up when he picked you up to take you with him.-_

Fa’loraen stared at that as he searched his memory and winced. _–Ah. Right. Stane had a…noise maker or something. The tone it gave off was…painful and made it hard to think. I couldn’t string together a coherent thought, let alone track human-speech.-_

 _-Pity. We could’ve used another set of claws last night.-_ Mm’aryn mused. _–A lightning rod would’ve been nice, too.-_

Fa’loraen snorted. _–I don’t think I would’ve been able to handle that, if it was as powerful as you said. We’d need a Planet-keeper for something of that magnitude.-_

Mm’aryn hummed and they listened to the agent telling Stark to stick to the cards, which would serve as his alibi for last night. Stane would, apparently, die in a plane crash.

 _-…he’s not gonna stick to the cards, is he?-_ Mm’aryn watched Pepper follow after the agent, before considering Stark.

 _-Probably not.-_ Fa’loraen admitted, resting his head on his forelimbs. _–Oh, he might_ try _, but he’ll probably toss it out the minute someone pokes at his ego.-_

_-Figures.-_

They watched Pepper exchange some words of gratitude with the agent and Mm’aryn idly poked at her, once he’d left.

_-Careful. Remember? Careful, Virginia.-_

_He hasn’t done anything to us yet._ Pepper dusted her hands on her thighs and stepped over to grab Stark’s suit jacket for him.

_-Still…-_

“You know, it’s actually—it’s _not_ that bad,” Stark said, heading over to Pepper, still looking at his cards. “Even _I_ don’t think I’m Iron Man.”

“You’re not Iron Man, remember?” Pepper reminded him as she helped him into his jacket.

“Am. So.” The word was a bit muffled, but Stark was holding his cards in his mouth.

“You’re _not_.”

“Alright. Suit yourself.” There was a moment of silence as the two fiddled to make Stark look presentable.

“Y’know, if I _were_ Iron Man, I’d have this girlfriend who knew my true identity. She’d be a wreck.” Stark turned around and took the cards out of his mouth. “She’d always be worrying if I was gonna die and it’d make her proud of the man I’d become. She’d be wildly conflicted, which would only make her more”—he cleared his throat—“crazy about me. Tell me you never think about that night.”

“What night?” Pepper replied, voice steady and easily ignoring the way both dragons were gaping at Stark in shock.

 _-Is Stark…actually_ asking _to start a courting?-_ Fa’loraen stared with wide eyes, sounding a bit strangled. _–A proper cour—I mean, proper_ human _courting?_ Stark _?-_

Mm’aryn blinked rapidly, but the sight before them didn’t change. And she was… _pretty_ sure she hadn’t gotten a head wound or anything last night. _–I, I guess so? I mean, that’s what_ I’m _seeing…-_

“You know.” Pepper slowed and met Stark’s eyes.

“Are you talking about the night that we danced, and went up on the roof and…and then you went downstairs to get me a drink and you…left me there? By myself? Is that the night you’re talking about?” Her voice started out soft and light, but by the time she got to the end, an edge had crept into the question and made her sound unimpressed.

“Mhm,” Stark replied anyway, but the brief tilt of his head to the side made it clear that he was feeling a bit sheepish now.

Pepper continued preparing Stark for his appearance at the press conference with brisk motions. ‘Thought so. Will that be all?”

“Yes, that will be all, Ms. Potts.” It’d been a long time since Stark could’ve been said to be running away from a conversation, but it certainly looked like he was now, in the dragons’ opinions.

Two pairs of silver eyes watched him walk away and then met Pepper’s raised eyebrow. Fa’loraen shrugged as an amused look spread across Mm’aryn’s face.

 _-Typical.-_ Mm’aryn shook her head, but amusement was clear in her voice and countenance. _–It’s just like Stark to bring up something like that when trying to start a human-courting.-_ She shot an expectant look at Pepper. _–Believe me now?-_

Pepper sighed and settled in to see how Stark would do in the press conference. _Yeah, I believe you. I didn’t_ dis _believe you, you know, but you didn’t think I’d just_ let _him get his way, though, did you?_

 _-Of course not.-_ Mm’aryn flicked her tail, as though to brush away the question. _–His expectation for a life-mate isn’t right anyway.-_

Fa’loraen nodded in agreement when Pepper shot them a curious look. _–All he talked about was how his partner would support him and nothing about how he would support them or what they’d actually do or how they would look out for each other or anything of that sort.-_ He shrugged. _–A life-mate is your_ equal _. Nothing more, nothing less.-_

Pepper considered the two dragons who were sprawled across the surface of the coffee table and shook her head with a smile. _That’s a nice way of looking at it._

Fa’loraen snorted. _–Have to, especially when females tend to be at least a third larger than you are.-_

Mm’aryn let a lazy satisfaction emanate from her at that, which Fa’loraen playfully scoffed at, before they both turned towards the screen to watch Stark talk. All three of them cringed as Stark began to refute one of the reporter’s questions, only to begin rambling about wild accusations that hadn’t been made.

_Remind me to keep Christine Everhart away from Tony and see if we can ban her from future press conferences._

_-You got it.-_ Mm’aryn replied lightly as she waited for Stark to mess this up completely somehow.

“…I am Iron Man.”

Pepper groaned and the two dragons exchanged longsuffering looks as the reporters exploded into noise.

“Tony…” Pepper gestured helplessly. “Why?”

 

* * *

 

It took several months for things to settle after Tony’s whole ‘I am Iron Man’ thing, but they eventually did. Tony disappeared to some top-secret facility or something for a while, complaining _constantly_ in the days leading up to that time about pirates and robot agents and how much time he’d be wasting there. Apparently, with his new job as a superhero, a certain organization wanted him to get some actual hand-to-hand training to better deal with his opponents, a sentiment that all of Tony’s close friends approved of. The thing was, James noticed that Tony didn’t actually sound all that upset about the required training and only felt something in particular when he called the pirate a ‘stalker.’ Fa’loraen had flexed his claws at the reference, but didn’t really react otherwise. The dragon promised to try to keep Tony out of trouble, though he warned James and Pepper that he may not be entirely successful; Tony couldn’t interact with him, after all, so Fa’loraen was likely only going to serve as a guardian angel, for the duration.

But, with Tony gone for a length of time that they actually _knew_ about, James wrangled time off from his superiors and dropped by Pepper’s apartment, intending to get that explanation she owed him.

Pepper and her dragon—he’d kinda forgotten its name…—answered the door in casual clothes and invited him in with a grin, leading him to a cozy living room and dropping onto the couch. James toed his shoes off and took a seat on the opposite end.

“You’ve already eaten, right?” Pepper asked, while the dragon hopped down to the couch cushions and padded over to him.

James nodded, a wry grin crossing his face and glancing curiously down at the dragon that was sitting in front of him. “Figured it might take a while to get through all my questions.”

“Probably.” Pepper grinned, amused. “But, just tell me if you get hungry. I had lasagna for dinner and there’s more than enough for both of us, if this conversation takes as long as I think it might.”

James barked out a laugh. “You got it, Pepper.” He nodded at the dragon, distinctly recalling the feeling of her thoughts in his head. “I should probably get the introduction out of the way again, huh?” He directed his next words at the dragon. “I’m James Rhodes. Tony calls me a lot of different names, but usually he calls me Rhodey. It’s nice to meet you.”

Silver eyes blinked up at him for a moment, before he got the impression of a grin. _–It’s nice to meet you, too, Rhodey. I’m Mm’aryn.-_ She flicked her tail and eyed him sidelong, looking a bit amused. _–What’d you wanna know?-_

James was pretty sure his face had a weird expression on it from the way Pepper was hiding a grin, but this telepathy thing felt _really_ weird. “Man. _How_ do you get used to that? It’s the _weirdest_ feeling.” He shook his head a bit and raised a hand to his hairline.

Pepper shrugged, smiling. “How do you get used to anything? Time and lots of practice.”

“Yeah, but…didn’t you feel kinda…weird hearing a voice in your head that wasn’t your own at first?”

Pepper thought for a bit. “A bit. It was harder to distinguish it at first, but when she started speaking English, it was actually a lot easier to figure out what was her and what was me.”

James raised his eyebrows. “She couldn’t always speak English?”

“She’s a dragon, Rhodey,” Pepper pointed out dryly. “Why would she need to speak English if she was just talking to other dragons?”

That brought James up short and then he huffed. “Right. Just ‘cause English is a pretty universal language _here_ , doesn’t necessarily mean it’s _actually_ universal. So, you were dealing with, what, some sort of garbled noises or something?”

“Try emotions.” Pepper shook her head. “Let me just say, it’s _really_ weird when you constantly get spikes of curiosity over people, places, smells, things, and occasionally animals. That time with the skunk wasn’t very fun.” She paused, thinking. “Nor the other time with the lizard.”

Mm’aryn gave the both of them a grumpy look. _–I thought we agreed not to bring those up.-_

“What can I say? They were funny,” Pepper said mildly, but she was fighting a grin.

James shook his head, stifling a grin of his own, and dragged his wandering thoughts over to the gaping hole of information that he was currently missing. “Alright. So, I’m not entirely what I need to know…should I just ask questions or do you have some sort of speech or something? How’re we doing this?” He turned and leaned back on the armrest, tilting his head to the side.

Pepper and Mm’aryn exchanged a glance, before Mm’aryn padded back to curl up in Pepper’s lap. “I guess I could just summarize what I know and then answer any other questions you have?”

James nodded and shrugged at the same time. “Sounds good to me.”

“Okay.” Pepper glanced up at the ceiling for a moment and then looked back at him. “So, apparently, there’s a…a world or plane or something that lies on the other side of a magical veil, where you can find little dragons like Mm’aryn and Fa’loraen. While the majority of them don’t have much to do with us humans, there’s this one subset that holds an odd fascination for us, which are, appropriately enough, called human-friend.” Pepper rolled her eyes at the term, before continuing.

“Not very imaginative, dragons. Anyway, these human-friends find individuals on our side of the veil who, for some reason or another, they like and begin trying to spend time with them to foster a soul-bond. This soul-bond creates a telepathic-empathic link and lets the dragon anchor themselves on this side of the magical veil.” Pepper hummed thoughtfully and then tilted her head. “Is that a good enough summary?”

James considered the information. “For a very brief overview? Yes. The fire?”

 _-We’re_ dragons _.-_ Mm’aryn pointed out, rustling her wings. _–While not every dragon can breathe fire, we all have some way of causing destruction with the elements.-_

“I suppose, in the same vein, that’s not all you can do, right?” James was starting to eye Mm’aryn warily.

Mm’aryn seemed to grin as she nodded. _–Me? I’m what we call a Sky-fire, a dragon with an affinity for fire and ridiculous aerial maneuvers. I can breathe blue-white fire and light myself on fire without consequence. Fa’loraen? We call his kind Wisp-shadow, dragons who specialize in camouflage, stealth, and ambush._ They _get lightning, razor sharp claws, and tend to be really small.-_

“I _did_ wonder…” Pepper said, glancing up at James with a grin playing at her mouth. “He sounded like an adult, but he was so tiny…”

“Ambush, you said?” James flashed a tight grin at Pepper, but he was wondering more about what Mm’aryn meant by that. “Tony doesn’t have to worry, right?”

Mm’aryn shook her head, though she looked like she also wanted to roll her eyes. _–You don’t have to worry about Fa’loraen going after Stark. His soul-bond asked him to look after him, so he will until Stark dies.-_

James blinked as something else occurred to him. “Wait, so what’s the etiquette about asking after someone’s soul-bond then? Do you just _ask_ straight up or…?”

Mm’aryn was shaking her head before James even got the entire question out, but she paused and shrugged after a moment. _–Normally, we don’t have to ask, since we can see them on their souls and dragons don’t tend to_ leave _what they think of as theirs. Fa’loraen’s, though, was dead, so I only know his because it’s part of the etiquette that tries to negate our instinctive territoriality while on this side of the veil.-_

“Ah. Right. Fa’loraen _did_ say something about you dragons being able to see souls.” James eyed her thoughtfully. “Is that something you can show somebody?”

Mm’aryn blinked. _-…I could…? I mean, I’ve offered to show Virginia, but she hasn’t taken me up on my offer yet.-_

“And you know I’m probably never going to,” Pepper said automatically, before turning to James. “Honestly, I think it’s a bit like cheating if you can see who’s influenced who and who’s important to whom and what some people are like right when you meet them.”

James laughed. “I’m pretty sure that doesn’t stop you from asking Mm’aryn for her impressions, though.”

Mm’aryn sighed, pretending to mope. _–All the time. But it’s not like I’m not gonna give her a heads-up about someone, so…-_ She shrugged. _–I don’t mind. If it helps Virginia do her job and makes things a bit easier for her, I could do it all the time.-_

“So, you can only let Pepper see them?” James brought them back to his question. “You can’t let, say, Tony or me see them?”

Mm’aryn shook her head, looking apologetic. _–It works best between soul-bonds, since we kinda already have the bond to support it. Someone’d have to pick you and you’d have to soul-bond before you could do it.-_

James hummed thoughtfully, but left it alone. It certainly _sounded_ interesting, but he wasn’t sure if he’d _really_ want to try. If it was anything like that…whatever that was when she’d shown him, JARVIS, and Pepper where Tony was being held, he didn’t think he’d end up asking for it.

“So, how come I couldn’t see you before?” He leaned into the back of the couch and stretched, letting his arms drape across the couch.

Mm’aryn sat up and flicked her tail, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. _–Well, most people can’t, not just you. Even some of the humans human-friends choose can’t see them until something happens to shake their worlds a little and makes them open to believing in the impossible or mystical.-_ She shrugged. _–It’s why you don’t see all too many dragons hanging around. Over the years, we’ve found that it’s actually_ rarer _for a human-friend to find a human with dragon-sight than it is for them to run into a dead-end and decide to head back to find a Watching Pool to spend the rest of their lives beside.-_

There wasn’t much James could say in response. “…so dragon-sight is the ability to see you guys?”

“Pretty much,” Pepper replied, scooping Mm’aryn up and cuddling with her for a moment. “If you have it, then you know they’re around. No dragon-sight means you don’t even see them when they’re standing right in front of you.”

“So, what, when Fa’loraen flexes his claws, it looks like the scratches come out of nowhere?” James asked skeptically.

Pepper shrugged. “More or less. Stane didn’t even notice Mm’aryn when she snarled at him with wisps of fire floating off of her or when she was about to spit fire at him.”

James blinked and looked between Pepper and Mm’aryn. “Well, _now_ I’m kinda glad I have it. That doesn’t sound like it would’ve been very…fun to deal with.”

 _-We’re waiting on Stark to get with the program.-_ Mm’aryn said, sounding almost like she was sharing a secret. _–It sometimes looks like he can see us, but it’s only for a moment here and there. Even_ Happy _can see us by now, though he takes everything in stride so well you’d never notice.-_

“Wait, _Happy_ can see you?” Pepper asked, looking down at Mm’aryn in surprise, while James blinked and raised an eyebrow.

Mm’aryn blinked. _–Yeah?_ He’s _the one who suggested that Fa’loraen sit on_ his _shoulder instead of Stark’s, since they both try to be close to Stark all the time.-_

James and Pepper exchanged bemused looks, but accepted it. It made a lot of sense, actually, because Happy was pretty good at keeping his mouth shut and he wouldn’t have brought it up unless it became a problem, which they both knew it wouldn’t.

“Huh.” James tapped his knee as he tried to think up another question. “Is it a possibility that Fa’loraen and Tony could end up soul-bonds?”

Mm’aryn hummed thoughtfully. _–…I suppose it’s_ possible _, since soul-bonds are formed when the participants_ choose _to spend time together and get to know each other better, but I’ve never heard of someone losing their soul-bond and picking up another.-_ She shrugged. _–I dunno.-_

James nodded and yawned. “Well, I can’t think of anything else right now, but you don’t mind if I ask about it later, right?”

“Of course not.” Pepper smiled. “We aren’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon.” Mm’aryn nodded her agreement and curled back up in Pepper’s arms.

“Then, I’m gonna go look for that lasagna you mentioned earlier and help myself to some.” James grinned, pushing himself up and heading to the kitchen.

“It’s in the oven,” Pepper called back, the sound of the TV reaching James’ hearing easily.

While he was pretty sure he’d have questions later on and things to get angry or worried about, for now, he knew all he needed to know and he intended to spend some time with a good friend, enjoying one of the very few times he was on leave. Tony would be back soon, too, so he’d probably crash at the mansion in a few days and laugh as Tony related everything terrible about his experience learning hand-to-hand combat. JARVIS would probably help him get Tony to relax between snarking at him and letting Tony get down all the ideas he’d no doubt get while he was getting beat into the ground.

Yeah, that sounded good.


End file.
